


Angel of Wales

by AnnaCipactli12



Series: Broken Angels [1]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 160,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4854647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaCipactli12/pseuds/AnnaCipactli12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Serious AU after Mary writes her last letter to her child before she faces the scaffold she begins to bring back all the memories that led to her damnation and to her eventual imprisonment by her father and husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End is the Beginning

_ _

 

_"Love is not a sentiment is only an idea. Love is an ideal that destroys, that tears your soul and makes you feel hollow, I know because I am the woman whom you like to listen in her crazy rambles, the woman who has a lot of friends but not any boyfriend, the woman who ends up being alone with many cats and strange animals in her apartments. I am that woman"_

**~"Naturally alone" by Anonymous**

* * *

**  
** **1545**

Mary could not remember a day when her father had not promised her happiness. He was always there, it seemed when she was ther lowest point. He seemed trustworthy. Her mother always said to obey her father in all things, she was clear about that in her last letter to Mary.

How did she end up like this?

In this bed, with not her  _husband_  orher closest friends to be with her? There would occasionally be maids coming and going sent by her father, and [she thought bitterly]  _the Queen_. A midwife would be with them, and her physician Dr. de la Sa. They would constantly check on her. They would ask questions, was she alright, how was confinement?

Confinement, I smirk at that word. How I hate the word confinement. It is the worst word there can be.

Confinement, I bark in laughter.

The midwife comes to the small room again. She asks me the same questions like Dr. de la Sa, am I eating all my food? Am I alright? I tell her the truth, the food is horrible and I want to get out of this room, I hate being in this room, it feels like an Eternity. But the midwife says I can't, that it is all for my own safety.

The next day I stay up all night, talking to myself, then to God confessing myself to him asking him when I can see the man I love again. I imagine God telling me that it will all be over after my son or daughter arrives, after I deliver his baby then can I be free from confinement.

Day Twenty three, I note in my journal. I had been keeping this journal for the time of my stay in this Residence.

I try to write but I keep feeling the weight of my guilt on my abdomen, and that guilt is kicking back at me constantly.

I gasp as I feel a sharp pain. The guards after they hear my cries call for the Physician who was luckily on his way to check me. They stop the pain hours later after I wake up. The first thing that comes to mind is whether I will be free, whether I will be able to nurse this child before he or she taken away from me like my first two sons, Henry and Phillip?

I can still remember the time when Phillip and Henry were born to me. Two beautiful boy, only separated by a year. The first one I could see Phillip and his grandfather, my father all over him. He had my father's cold stare, and his loud wail that woud not cease until he would be pampered and proper handled by his parents. I had wanted to hold him, to bring him love but after I saw those eyes I couldn't ... I really couldn't.

But Phillip had ignored her and came over to Mary "I have known you to be the greatest thing to ever happen to me" He'd said the day I gave England another heir, and Bavaria's future Duke. Phillip and my father were happy that I had borne the two nations a son. My husband had not taken into account my sad look when my son was torn away from me by his nurse and the midwives. I wanted to hold him, I intended to make him mine, to oversee his education but even that was restricted for a poor, sad woman like me.

I begin to write in the journal, the day your brother, my firstborn was torn from my arms like I am sure you will be too. His education was decided by no other than my husband and Cranmer. Nothing better than to have the man [that I thought] I loved convene with Cranmer about the future education of my son. Some people had called Phillip an opportunist, Eustace Chapuys, the Imperial Ambassador was one of them.

He had said to be weary of Phillip, but I had been rash, one single decision changed everything. I wonder whether if in another future I would have made a better decision and decided to wait instead of marrying Phillip so quickly? Would I have fared better? Would you have fared better? Or, would you and your second oldest brother, my second son Henry, would you two have existed? I don't know. I honestly don't. It is impossible to know what the future might have hold for us if we had made a different choice.

 **~o~**  
  
Month Three, Day 48th.

Only a little while longer and she would be gone from this besieged residence, this room where something malevolent hovered, tormenting her. Only a little while longer ... Phillip might not be the same dashing for her, but he could still be her salvation from the torment that her father and the Queen had put her in the walls of her own home.

"Thank you" Mary said, pulling her arm closer to her side.

 _Esther_  was the name of the midwife as she was helping her former Mistress deliver the babe said unto Mary "But I must tell you that much happiness lies within your own power. Tht man has little to do with it"

She was surprised that Esther dared to speak that way for her, she looked at Esther indignant, but she said nothing instead she cried in pain as she continued to push.

"Have it stop" She demanded crying harder as pain took her.

"Milady just one push!" She declared but Mary could not do it. Apple bosoms were what suddenly came to her mind, his voice was what started to guide as she kept on hearing too the voice of Esther.

"Push" She prompted and Mary pushed.

Wails of a newborn filled the room "It is a girl Your Grace" Your Grace, she still called her Your Grace, because no matter how much she had fallen from grace [the irony there] she was still Your Grace, she was still the Royal [though bastard] of Henry VIII, his eldest daughter, his jewel (she still wanted to think) and more important the co ruler of Phillip of Bavaria, Duchess of Bavaria.

She had thought the pain was over but it wasn't, another pain suddenly invaded her.

"Ahh!" She cried harder now.

Esther's yells and cries did not calm her, the maids flocked to her side closer now as they held each her arms as she sat up attempting to clutch her stomach. Let his pain free me, she thought.

"Yahwhe be praised, Your Grace I see the head crowning" Esther announced. Though she was a jew she became a trusted confidant to Mary. Mary had trusted her in the last days of her pregnancy with her second son Henry Wittelsbach. She better than Dr. de la Sa or Dr. Butts to know what ailed her.

Mary's health had never been the best. She had had often amenhorrea, depression, suffered fallbacks from stress, fevers, colds, the list just continued, of course Ambassador Marillac though these were just exagerations. One of her maids who was of French origin corroborated Marillac's suspicions to him, but she'd only said it to save her Mistress from suspicions that she could not have children.

Everyone though that Phillip's line would die with him when she'd wed him. Even her own sister much like her mother [especially now that Mary was in disgrace] thought that she would end as a washed up old lady.

* * *

  
_"He must have gone down on his knees! and have begged to be excused ... to be forced to stick it up that old dried up virgin!"_

_"Elizabeth!" I exclaimed, I was genuinely shocked._

_"What?" Her eyes were blazing with temper. For a moment I believed that she did not know what she was saying. "What's wrong with telling the truth?" He is a young handsome man who will inherit half of Europe , she is a woman old before her time and old enough anyway. It is disgusting to think of them rutting together like a young piglet on an old sow. It is an abomination. And if she is like her mother she will bear nothing but dead babies!"_

_I put my hands on my ears_

**~Hannah Green and "Lady" Elizabeth on Phillipa's Gregory's: "The Queen's Fool" p.239**

* * *

**  
**Finally the time had come to bring the last push. Mary screamed the loudest, her cries ringing to the other rooms in the Tower Green.

There was second wail she never believed she could hear screams louder than hers or her daughter, but her second newborn, the girl's twin screamed the loudest.

"Yahweh!" Esther could not avoid it, her surprise was evident in her face as was Mary's anticipation as she asked "What is it?" She was tired but her excitement kept her from darkness taking her. After every birth she always grew tired, Elizabeth was right in their last argument, she was a washed up old woman by now. She was nearing thirty years old and yet she felt her body older as her spirit after all she had been through with him and Phillip.

"Tis is a Lady Your Grace. And beautiful she is!" Esther exclaimed bringing the daughter next to her "Milady" she said now crying harder as the child as she brought her closer to Mary. "Look at her, she is clearly a Tudor" Esther said impatiently as Mary refused to see her babe.

The first babe was still in the maid's arms next to her. Mary had partially seen her and she looked beautiful, but this babe she could not see because she was afraid that on the twin's face she would see the face of her shame reflected. She could not bear that.

But Esther kept shoving her in her face that at last pushing aside all the shame she felt, she held the child in her arms. Immediately the child's cries ceased and taking a better look into her child she realized that Esther was right. There was definetly Tudor in her. She was all Tudor and turning to the maid next to her, her name she tried to remember but she couldn't so she simple ordered her "Give her to me" The maid looked at Esther who nodded.

The maid gave her firstborn daughter to Mary, now she had both twins. Her firstborn daughter unlike her fraternal twin had no Tudor on her. In fact she had more of her father, her eyes were his, so were her strong cheeks and bones and unlike Mary both of them were healthy.

Mary might have chosen for the children to be whisked away as was to be their fate, but she chose to stay longer, as much as she could before Master Kingston and Edward Seymour came to take them away. She kissed her firstborn daughter's head and whispered to her, Esther being very close heard her former Mistress - _"Mi bel accident"_

"You shall be my Isabella, I will let you enter into my heart's state, and your happiness is in your grandfather's hands ..." she sniffed as she bitterly added "and my husband's"

"I think Your Grace should hurry, I can hear footsteps approaching" Esther said with a hurried tone. Mary ignored her as she kissed her firstborn daughter's brow, unlike Phillip and then Henry, she felt closer to these two than she had in the six years that she had borne Phillip and then Henry.

Coming to her second daughter she whispered "Please don't..." she sniffed harder "don't" -she couldn't finish the sentence, it would be inevitable, the cell door clicked and Mary knew that the time had come to take them. "Elizabeth, my Elizabeth" Despite all the last confrontations and fights she had with her sister Elizabeth, she still loved her and forgave her. She bore much resentment for her, but she was still her sister and no matter what she would have done in the future that was now not to be, to dethrone and take back what was first ours. That future Mary would not have to worry anymore, it would all be erased thanks to her two sins she had in her arms.

"Duchess" -Master Kingston declared as he came into the room. She expected to see him with the Earl of Hertford, the cunning Edward Seymour however he was nowhere to be seen. As if he had read her thoughts he said "His Excellency" He began not afraid that the Guards could hear them, and that was because he quickly explained, they were also bought off and sworn to secrecy by him. Now Mary could see all the age on Kingston, like His Excellency he was limping but unlike Chapuys he seemed weaker but his face bore the same strictness he was known for.

In all his life he had seen men and women come and go, some with death written all over their face, but only two times he had been in the presence of two strong souls who bore no fear for death, the first had been Mademoiselle Boleyn, a fine Lady, very fine woman and very fine person she bore no fear of death whatsoever she even seemed to wish for it when many in prison were begging not to. This Lady, her antithesis was more alike to her late stepmother than she realized. Her looks now almost seemed to mirror Anne Boleyn's. The only difference however, was the Duchess' hair color. In comparison to Anne's black hair, the Duchess of Bavaria had the famous Tudor red hair, yet it was darker than her sister –the fair Lady Elizabeth.

She faced a greater hardship, the sentence of death by her father, for her sins. Unlike Mademoiselle Boleyn which many [Reformers mostly] who thought there could be the slightest chance she could be innocent, with the Duchess there was no doubt on everyone's mind that she wasn't.

"I meant nothing evil when I was forced to bring you here Madame but pretending evil does not exist around us gives it power. I have only said this phrase to another woman. I beg you to not judge me, but trust me in the message I am to deliver to you" said Kingston as he clutched on his cane tighter and walked closer to the Duchess' bed. "By whatever means" he began as he was now next to her. He didn't worry about the midwife hearing her, His Excellency had informed him that there would be nothing to worry about Mistress Esther Goya. "I wish a different fate for you and healthy life to both your children -and to their father"

Mary pressed her lips together, their father she thought grimly. This was his doing then. Esther pressed her hand on shoulder. She could feel the weight of Esther's worries as Master Kingston's as he continued "There is a boat waiting outside just as we speak it is arriving, so I will say this quick. I have been instructed by Your Majesty to inform you that you are to deliver the child as soon as it is born, since there is two this changes everything"

"What do you mean? What deal has their father made?" Mary inquired.

Master Kingston smiled grimly, this Lady was on the verge of madness yet she still bore reason like her most hated enemy Anne Boleyn.

Never had England had to brave ladies, who were sadly fated to die under the King's sword.

"Your child was to die, the babe would be whisked into his care by his servant Fleming, however seeing how you bore two, it will be more difficult to save two girls"

Mary understood. If she had borne one babe, it would all be easy, she would say there was a miscarriage, and probably she could have pulled it off saying that she on the verge of madness had burned the babe's body. It was a far cry from reason, but Master Kingston and the others had watched her rave and come to sudden fits of madness when she would burst out laughing at nothing in particular after she would finish writing.

Two babies, only one could be saved, so Master Kingston was now forcing her to decide.

She was about to say she could not, but seeing Esther, feeling her grip around her shoulder, and then her maids and finally Kingston she realized she had no choice and very little time. She had to choose now.

The second born twin who bore more Tudor resemblance, or her older twin who bore more of Chapuys? It was clear what she had to do.

"Esther take Elizabeth" She said imperiously to Esther. The midwife nodded and took the youngest fraternal twin, the babe immediately began to cry again in her arms. It would only be for a little while, Esther thought -soon child you will be back with your mama's arms.

It was the best decision Mary could have made. Her oldest daughter had too much of her biological father, if she had left this baby in the arms of her grandfather or worse, her husband, God forbid she would punished for life, Phillip would never accept her and she would be the new Elizabeth of the English Court, people would mock at her, throw insults, not even her sister would be allowed to console her.

No, it was the best decision.

* * *

 

Outside Master Kingston clutching the babe whom the Tudor Bavarian Duchess called her Isabella after her grandmother, walked downstairs to where the boat had just arrived. There was Fleming and another man that Kingston knew all too well. "His Excellency" he greeted.

Chapuys took off his cloak. There were mists all around them, almost as if God had willed the heavens to deliver them from harm.

"Master Kingston I trust everything has been settled between the Duchess and yourself? I hear a miscarriage?" Said Chapuys with his cynic tone he was famous for.

Master Kingston shook his head vigorously. "I am afraid not Your Excellency, the Duchess bore twins" Chapuys raised his eye brows at this revelation, his mouth had hung open but quickly he composed himself and pressed his lips tightly together forming a thin line.

He looked at Fleming signaling him to take the child. Fleming did so and Kingston handed the child to her new wards.

Fleming handled the child with care almost as if she was his own. The boatman after the two passengers, now three with the babe, said their goodbyes to the Warden, he began to sail.

* * *

 

Mary felt weaker now. She had only Elizabeth with her, Isabella was now with their father where she belonged.

How had she ended up like this?

How?

"Of what the years mean to a man and a woman" Esther said, bringing the phrase Eustace had said to Mary when they kissed. "As you know, you told me this after you confessed the nature of your second pregnancy. All the women, Your Grace if I might speak freely?"

"Can I stop you from it?" Mary said giving Esther a grim smile.

Esther smirked, given the circumstances she should chastise herself for finding humor in this situation, but she [Mary] had a way of making all her maids laugh.

"My knowledge Your Grace"

"Your knowledge of what?"

"My knowledge yes" Emphasized Esther her grin plastered as Mary's who was always amused by Esther's phrases that carried boldness "is that what you told me His Excellency told you of what the years mean to a man and a woman are very true. My daughter also named Mary was a brave girl, you always asked me how she died. She thought that she could solve the world's problems so she ran away from home, joined the Pilgrimage of Grace"

Mary's eyes went wide. Why hadn't Esther told her? Now it all made sense why Esther had reacted rather violently when Phillip had mentioned the Pilgrimage with a mocking tone.

Esther continued "My mother said that I would be punished for not having my first communion the day she wanted, alas she was wrong, it was my daughter who got punished after His Majesty's will was to set an example of Aske's and his followers. She thought that she could change the world, very much like you she was brash, and was brave like you. When I see you I remember what it was to be a mother. Everyone at Court can say that you committed sin, but out of all of them, including his Excellency, you are the only one who didn't sell her soul to the devil"

Mary looked around cautiously, her maids were bound to silence and Esther and Kingston had threatened them as bought them off with Chapuys' money [how he'd gotten money was a miracle in itself when he had declared himself near bankrupt in England, he had told Mary the expenses were too much in England to keep the lifestyle he was used to] . They would not talk like Esther and the others involved in the cover up.

"I do not know what wisdom I have. I once said that I was young and inexperienced but that I was willing to learn. I have lived, I feel a very long time, an eternity since I came to love him that is all I have to say as my last statement. I have lived longer alone than ever I was married; even when I had my mother I was raised alone. I have been motherless, lost two stepmothers, one to death for child fever, and the other because my father chose to set aside for a Howard girl, the reason why I am here."

The maids in the room, including the midwife Esther tried not to look at her in pity, but everyone knew what awaited her, especially if the Earl of Hertford was yet to come.

"Come sit" Commanded Mary. Esther did not ignore her this time and came to sit next to Mary. "I have known you since you bore your first son Phillip, you were very happy back then"

"Yes I was" said Mary with a sour tone.

"But they took your child away and you became sad, forlorn in your looks, you became bitter, you asked what you could do to have him back, we all know the story Your Grace, and then when there was nothing to do but watch how the Duke, Cranmer, and your father took over his education, how Lady Elizabeth his aunt and his step grandmother came closer to him than his own mother, you became resented for your married life so you turned to someone who could understand you. You and Phillip seemed like a great couple" She patted Mary's arm. Mary tried not to wince; the welts and scratches of yesterday were very bad today too, and she prayed no one would notice them when she stepped into the courtyard where hundreds of spectators would await her death.

"Thank you" Said Mary pulling Esther's hand closer to her shoulder where she previously had it when she gave Isabella away.

In her arms was Elizabeth now asleep.

"But I must tell you" said Esther again "That much of what you thought your happiness lied with men, had nothing to do with it, true happiness lies within you."

Mary smirked, ever the wise apparent advisor that Esther she thought.

Hours later as she played with Elizabeth making faces that made the child giggle, Master Kingston came for a second time, this time with the Earl of Hertford. This visit was the one she had been dreading for the past nine months. This was the final straw, the moment of truth when she would be advised of her death.

"Your Grace" Edward Seymour began with his cold voice. He walked to where the King's eldest and most disgraced daughter was. "Give me the child." He said, no more announcements. That was all he had come for -the child.

Mary handed her and watched the Earl take her away, surprisingly Elizabeth was calm in his arms.

Before he walked out the door she cried loud enough for everyone to hear "Her name is Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" But the Earl said nothing, he merely walked away and Master Kingston was forced to close the door behind him, once more locking the brave Duchess with her maids.

* * *

 

_I don't know if this will reach you, I want you to tell you that before I meet the hour of my death, that you are not a sin I regret. I have regretted many things in life but you are not one of them ..._

_Farewell my offspring, my daughter, take care and always remember who you are the daughter of Princess Mary Tudor, not Lady or Duchess but Princess and the descendant of Isabel and Fernando de Castilla and Aragon respectively._

_~Lady Mary_

* * *

 

**A/N: _My bel Accident –French for My beautiful accident._**

 


	2. Going back to the start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might seem somewhat dull because it is the first Chapter. I decided to start at the end when Mary is helpless and then go back to the beginning so everyone understands what brought her to her lowest point. In this chapter you get introduced to the players and small changes that pay close attention will change the course of our characters' destinies. I am going with the showline so Phillip arrives after AOC weds the King, and he is Duke of Bavaria here to avoid confusion, the dates in which the real Phillip came to England were in 1539 December and he left before New Year [at Hertford, however for my storyline I placed his arrival to Greenwich instead] before an agreement could be reached with the King.
> 
>  
> 
> Song: Blue Jeans by Lana del Rey

 

 

 

 

_"Blue jeans, white shirt_  
walked into the room  
you know you make my eyes burn.  
I know love is mean  
I love hurts but I still remember that day we met."  
~Blue Jeans by Lana del Rey  
  


* * *

 

**1540 January**  
  
Her father had proposed to Mary to receive Anne of Cleves. It seemed that her father wanted his Royal Bastards to welcome the new Heretic, thought the eldest of his daughters grimly.

Elizabeth was enthusiastic to meet a new stranger, Mary reminded her that she would be no stranger; this German Royal was to be their new stepmother. For Elizabeth who had only had one stepmother this did not seem a great change in her life, the little girl was sure she could charm their new arrival with her smile, after all Queen Jane had said the biggest thing Elizabeth had to her favor was her smile. Mary said it to, so she encouraged her sister that when Anne of Cleves arrived she would show her the greatest respect and her biggest smile. Elizabeth had every intention to do so, she would show the Germans that the English were not afraid of strangers.

Mary did not share her sister's enthusiasm; she told His Excellency that she preferred not having to bow for that Heretic Flanders's woman. What was her father thinking? -she had raved to the Ambassador, was there no one else to take his hand in marriage?

"Alas the King tried everyone, including the Duchess of Milan, Marie of Guise but we all know no one would have him" Eustace continued to comment what the Duchess of Milan had said about her father's proposal, her words cut right through him said Chapuys in his usual cynicism.

_If I had two heads to give ... but alas gentlemen I only have one._

"Is that what she said?" Mary had asked, the Ambassador had nodded. Everything went terribly wrong in all her father's plans, and apparently Cromwell's too.

After Cromwell had prepared his King to receive his new wife [that Chapuys could not help laugh after he heard, that the King had chosen her on a basis of a portrait by Master Holbein], he told her that it was imperative that she showed her face for the welcoming ceremony, as Princess and the King's eldest daughter it was her duty plus it was part of the formalities.

Royal Protocol he reminded her.

For once she would want to break Royal Protocol.

Mary took this day to be one of the worst yet to come. Another Anne in the throne of England, oh joy for England! She thought wryly.

She was going to be another heretic, another Harlot, just by the mere fact her name was Anne and that she came from Cleves where her brother the Duke of Cleves William had broken with the Pope was enough to make Mary think ill of her.

Chapuys snorted mentally -Oh, we have something better in England each Queen, each station -the cynic thought.

He looked at the Princess, Lady Mary. She wore the Tudor Colors unlike her sister, the Harlot's daughter who had French fashion and a French hood. Except for her hair he could have mistaken her for the Whore. Why his Lady trusted that child, was beyond him.

"And here I introduce you Lady Mary" The King said at last holding his future wife's hand in his.

Lady Mary came to curtsy England's future Queen. Despite what the woman was, or what she would do to England, she would be compliant with her liege's orders and show her the respect any good Queen of England ought to deserve, not that she thought she deserved it by any chance.

"And this is Lady Elizabeth my youngest daughter" Said Henry, a glee in his eyes of pride as his enthusiastic and impulsive daughter ran forward to the Lady Anne of Cleves. Unlike her sister who only showed her a deep curtsy and a barely audible greeting; Elizabeth had flowers to give to give to her future stepmother. "For our future Your Majesty" She declared showing her teeth to the young woman through her smile and giggling.

"Oh my, I am ze honored" said Anne of Cleves through a heavy accent. Lady Elizabeth the German Royal could tell had the desire to hug her, quite overcome by Anne showing her a greater greeting than her sister. But Elizabeth knew when to draw the line, she withdrew from Anne of Cleves' presence and went next to stand next to her sister, Mary.

She had not expected this, indeed had not even known of the custom. She had been shipped of to England without any knowledge of the people or how she should behave for the King of England. Her mother never spoke of her own wedding day, except to brag about the bride price that her father had received through her diary.

Anne felt like she was being sold off. Her dowry was all that mattered to the King of England and what she represented, an alliance nothing more. Then there was the pressure to bring a Duke of York, her brother had emphasized heavily on that, she was to give the King of England a second son at all costs. She was very nervous about pleasing the King. She had heard what happened to the women who did not please the King, what happened to her predecessor, her namesake, Anne Boleyn.

* * *

After the wedding Ceremony Anne was forced to be meet the King in nothing more than a simple nightgown. She was very scared, this was nothing like Sybille and her mother related. The King showed nothing but utter disgust for her, maybe this had not been such a good idea after all.

Every woman's wedding night was supposed to be special, but she wasn't bedding the King looking for something special, she was doing it for duty for the purpose of the Alliance between England, Cleves and the Protestant Alliance in general.

She closed her eyes as the King neared her, he could feel him now next to her. Her eyes were closed shut, in one second it will start, next morning she told herself, this will all be over and you will not have to worry yourself over this plight anymore.

* * *

****_"It changes all to one thing. We often wonder why is that destiny exists? Why is it that some people are born great, and others we are born to loose? Could it be that it is all a lie? That God or the All Powerful lied to us? There is no destiny, there is no especial plan. We make our threads, we make our winners, we decide who gets to have visions of greatness, who gets to loose? Such a greatest discovery never published"_ ** ** ****_~_ **"Rebel against status quo" by Anonymous** ** **

* * *

**1540 January 25th**

**Greenwich**  
  
Phillip had been invited to her cousin's wedding; unfortunately he could not make the trip due to an unfortunate delay. His brother Otto Henry had been in excruciating agony, and as custom commanded it he had to be next to his brother in case anything were to happen to him.

His brother and him shared the title of Count Palatine, unlike other Counts they had more authority acting as co rulers to Elector Palatine. Phillip had the lion's share; he had been named Duke after Alfred IV left no heirs to rule Bavaria. As the younger of the two, Otto envied Phillip.  
Phillip had medals to prove his bravery, his most known was the one awarded by the Order of the Golden Fleece after he had helped in the siege of Vienna to expel the Turks. He was a patriot, and he loved his country but alas! He had one single weakness like most of the men in his family: gambling. He had literally lost half of his fortunes inherit by his the great Albert and his own by his father when he came of age.

He was not a good Administrator and the people in England, if they did, were right to call him an opportunist. His cousin Anne wasn't just inviting him for another family visit, he was going to come to the infamous Henry VIII's Court to see if his cousin could arrange for him a marriage with the King's eldest daughter, Lady Mary Tudor.

Phillip pictured the Lady Mary, and himself performing for her offering her a dance, the same rite that other couples did to court each other. Oh, let it be so! He prayed silently as he entered the Court Room of Greenwich. As his cousin the new Consort of England had told him -it was busy with chatter and music. He looked around to see if he could spot Lady Mary. His cousin said she would be easy to recognize, and she was.

"Lady Mary" He said coming to stop her in her tracks, her four maids too.

"Yes?" she asked with very little surprise. No doubt this must the famous "cousin" that Anne of Cleves had talked to her about.

_Lady Mary, I have a cousin, hiz name iz Phillip, he haz exprezzed greatz interezst to ze yu_

_The_ woman had no reason to arrange a marriage for her. Not one month had passed and she was already looking for a husband for Mary. She told her father that she expressed no interest in the Duke of Bavaria, Count Palatine or whatever his real title was, but that if that was his wish she would gladly obey for he was her master and she her loyal subject in all things. This last phrase had sealed her fate, her father had been convinced, guided by Cromwell [no doubt, she thought] that she would be wooed by the Queen's cousin.

"Allow me to be introduced I am Phillip Wittelsbach" he took Mary's hand and knelt to kiss it. "Duke of Bavaria it is a pleasure to meet you. My cousin has told me great things from you"

"I can imagine" said Mary stoutly. Indeed, what had Anne of Cleves not told her cousin? Anne behaved like many of the English Roses at Court, gossiping, speculating and anxious to see action, yet she was very shy to create her own so she relied on Lady Rochford and Lady Bryant. A terrible mistake relying on Lady Rochford, Mary thought. The woman was a spy and a former pupil of the Duke of Norfolk one of the men who had helped bring two Queens down, her mother and then her enemy the Harlot. The Queen was very naive if she believed she could find loyalty in Jane Rochford -that woman owed loyalty to nobody but herself.

"I was wondering if you would accept one dance with me" said Phillip, he had still not let go of her hand.

With a daring grin, Phillip added pulling something from his pocket, he had let go of her hand to reach for it. He extended his hand showing a small box "Would you do me the great honors?" He asked with a cocky tone.

Mary was forced to reach out and take it. Her father and the Queen were there and she could feel their gaze, including Cromwell and Cranmer's falling on her.

She brought her other hand on top of the small box and opened it. Her maids came closer to her, including Susan and could not help but gasp.

Because she had better control of her emotions, Mary did not show surprise. Her looks remained as emotionless as when she first encountered this man [who looked nothing more than a] rogue.

"Thank you" Mary said, "You spent a lot of time on the pearls and the jewels on this rosary Your Grace"

"Where is the surprise milady? I thought you would like it, I can bring you something better" Said Phillip.

Mary ignored his comment, walking past him.

Phillip sighed, his mind going around in circles. So this was the infamous daughter of Henry VIII, Mary Tudor? She was more than she seemed, far more beautiful than what his cousin described her in her letters. There was something in those eyes that could capture any man, and he had been hooked by them.

* * *

 

As days passed and Mary kept bumping more into the Duke of Bavaria, news began circulating around Court that the Queen was with child. This complicated things, Chapuys told her. If the Queen were to bore a son as the King, and the entire Reformist faction hoped for, it could ruin Mary's chances of being reinstated to the line of succession. Mary had tried not to imagine it, knowing that nothing could be worse if the Queen brought her father a Duke of York.

Mary hated all this talk. Again, she felt like a lamb in the market. She was being sold off to be Queen, she was being sold off to a husband who was very insistent, though she did admit somewhat charming. Her future was always talked about with the Imperial Ambassador as was with her father, she didn't like being kept in the dark, it was like everyone wanted to live their lives through her, and it angered Mary because she felt like she had no control over it anymore.

Was she ever going to have the opportunity to take command of her own life and declare "I am free at ast"? Why did she always have to let herself be controlled by everything and everyone? Suppose she didn't have to be the youngest, that she was lke Elizabeth? Would she be as manipulated or condemned to be in the shadow of England's crown? She would be cast out, rejected by all the Courtiers that had so far accepted her, if she were to be another Elizabeth.

_No, it was better to be this way_. There was nothing, she kept telling herself, in her life that she should regret. She was the King's eldest daughter, and as Chapuys was pointing out "That gives you better advantage than all his children. Regardless if she bears a Duke of York or not" he stopped as he locked eyes with hers, his expression completely serious and devoid of cynicism. It was vital that she understood what he was going to say now "I have been hearing from Courtiers who would favor your restitution"

Mary was glad to hear that, and that they had chosen the gardens outside Greenwich to discuss this. She didn't trust the Castle grounds, but out of all places she considered the gardens to be better avoiding unwanted attention.

"But surely Edward would be the first one to inherit the throne. Everyone knows that"

"That is so, but Queen Jane though very beloved by most, was never an anointed Queen like your mother" he began "If the Queen were to have a Duke of York it would secure the succession for male heirs, but if she were to have a daughter ...there is no doubt on everybody's minds you would be a finer candidate. I trust that when you become Queen you will restore the true faith back in England" he said with such devotion that Mary could not help feel convinced

 

Mary was glad to hear that, and that they had chosen the gardens outside Greenwich to discuss this. She didn't trust the Castle grounds, but out of all places she considered the gardens to be better avoiding unwanted attention.

 

"But surely Edward would be the first one to inherit the throne. Everyone knows that"

 

"That is so, but Queen Jane though very beloved by most, was never an anointed Queen like your mother" he began "If the Queen were to have a Duke of York it would secure the succession for male heirs, but if she were to have a daughter ...there is no doubt on everybody's minds you would be a finer candidate. I trust that when you become Queen you will restore the true faith back in England" he said with such devotion that Mary could not help but feel convinced.

Yet, she reminded him "That if God wills it."


	3. Murdering Passions

_"Someday I will find true love and when I do I will turn it down, because it is in my nature. I am not meant to be happy, the lines in my hand form a big M for Maturity but not an L for Love. Long life awaits me … alone"_  ~ **"Unfulfilled Life" by Anonymous**

* * *

**June 10th**

It was time for summer to come. This was spring's end and the Duke of Bavaria had come and gone, yet his return was expected for June. The Queen of England would be five months nearing her third trimester. Things had changed, on one of them had been the Imperial Ambassador and the French (as well) attitudes in trying to arrange for a marriage deal with the King of England –wedding his daughter to either of their Master's choice for husband.

The proposals had not gone very well; especially with the French Ambassador –Marillac. Out of the two –he was the one who turned out more bitter.

Mary felt more and more at ease when she was with Chapuys. She even hesitantly let him know that she wasn't as bothered with her father considering Francis' proposal to marry her to the Duke of Orleans –Charles, and he seemed unbothered by this –although she had not revealed that the reason for this was that the more Marillac pressured her father –the more Anne would write to the Duke urging him to come before June. He even seemed pleased about it, finding the good in it: if the King could not accept an Imperial proposal, a French one instead was a much better bid than with the Heretic Phillip of Bavaria.

Am I to spend the rest of my life –God may I be wrong in this! – dealing with marriage proposals? She asked herself repetitively several times a day, since her father's last marriage with the Lady of Cleves. If she bore him a son it would be the end of her fight, Chapuys had said it as clear as day. She would be farther from the throne now than she was even before Edward was born. But neither did she feel a grim or a sense of failure when thinking about the gender of her unborn half sibling, nor did she long for the day when she could finally be wed to a man [a Catholic Prince more likely] befitting her station.

At the same time, she thought about family, and what happiness would it bring her and her Kingdom. She worried about all the odd things that were happening to her –these new feelings, the talks between her and the Ambassador about the future of her realm, plus the mental confusion that had to with Phillip of Bavaria.

She looked at the letters that Phillip had sent to her through Anne. She and the Queen had been on better terms since February. She had thought the Queen to be a Heretic and a scheming witch just like her predecessor, her namesake, Anne Boleyn but now she had seen that she was nothing than a sweet, well natured woman, in fact she had often reminded Mary of the late Queen –Jane Seymour.

Maybe having a half sibling by her, even if he was a boy, would not be such a bad idea after all. If she was nice and showed favor to her and especially to Elizabeth, maybe she could have one of them, or better yet, the two of them reinstated someday.

There were nights when she lay in bed, like this one, feeling an oppression in the very air of her chamber, a heaviness that had nothing to do with heat. She almost felt that she could address it, and that if she did it would answer back. As the sadness that hadn't left her every January since her mother died, ironically it was the month her father married this new  _Anne_.

Anne Boleyn. -The witch that started all this misery, with her smiling face and beguiling, musical voice. Just the thought of her brought back awful memories of when she had been demoted to Lady, and then to servant in her sister's former Household at Hertfordshire –Hatfield. How the other Ladies had treated her, how Anne Boleyn had the audacity to visit her after Elizabeth's birth and ask for her loyalty, that she willing give up her claim to the throne in exchange for her father's favor.

How bold she had been, she had fought and fought and never gave up, until … they and later he came with the Oath in their hands warning her that if she didn't sign her father would lock her up, like he had done to her mother, and if she still didn't sign he would put her to death.

Death, the thought of it was enough to scare her. –That her own father could kill her.

The memories also made Mary think of all the things in her life she would give  _anything_  to change and to be now, a bride.

She was twenty four, many women by now were already wives … mothers. A side of her that wanted to rise up was on par with the side that also yearned for motherhood.

She sighed. But I know they are silly worries, nothing has been signed on paper …yet. For all I know Phillip could not be the husband for me.

Susan who had entered her room, saw that something was troubling Mary and seeing the letter that no doubt belonged to Phillip of Bavaria, it had to with marriage.

"You know that staring at the fireplace will only make you blind"

"Susan? Why is it that I never hear you enter?" Mary asked her best friend who had come unannounced to her bedroom. Like always Susan's visit to her chambers were at the most unholy hours.

Susan ignored Mary's question and sat in front of her.

"Why have you come?" Mary asked annoyed.

"You know why" Susan said "For years you have hidden your feelings Mary, for many weeks now you have refused to talk about the Duke of Bavaria. Say the truth already Mary, you are obviously smitten by him enough that you are blushing."

Mary smirked. She hadn't realized she had blushed when Susan said his name.

No good opportunity had presented itself yet, she didn't want to acknowledge that she could feel something for the young Duke. Besides, his allegiances were unknown yet. Could he be Lutheran? Could be a Catholic or could he be all that Chapuys told her, an opportunist?

All the medals he had talked about in his letters to her did not matter, he was considered by Chapuys as below her, and part of her wanted to agree with her best friend and greatest ally –Ambassador Chapuys. But she did not. The other half of her that had prompted her to open the letters, always won.

It was that half that was making Mary very reluctant to tell the truth to Susan, but God did she have a way to see through Mary. It was like she knew Mary better than herself.

"Come one Mary say it, you are infatuated with this young Duke"

"Don't start Susan"

"What is the problem?" Susan asked. Her friend could tell there was one and Susan thought she knew what it was.  
"I think that you are afraid Mary" she boldly said "that you could have someone to love you. Tell me it doesn't have to do with his beliefs? That is silly Mary and you know it"

Mary shook her head. That was part of it, but not entirely.

"Is it because you are afraid to be loved then?"

"What? No! Of course not, it is not that is just … just …"

Susan interrupted impatiently "What?"

Mary had her mouth opened but no words came out. She didn't know what to say

* * *

Susan could see her best friend's mouth hanging open, no words being spoken between them for the longest time ever.

When was Mary going to realize that it did her no good to deny her heart? If only once she would push her reason aside and listen to her heart, her life would head to a much brighter path.

* * *

Seconds that seemed an eternity for the two friends, finally were cut by Mary.

"I am not afraid" -she said not fooling Susan.

"Is that your heart talking or your reason Mary?" Susan asked. There was a certain air in Mary that made Susan suspect that there was a third party involved for her way of thinking, besides her reason and her heart, and her best friend had a good idea who it was.

"Is the Ambassador isn't it?"

"What? Of course not!"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Mary you value his opinion more than anyone else's he ought to have told you something about the Duke of Bavaria." She said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"He only said what he needed to say"

"You realize that is the more poor excuse I have heard you say?"

Susan said her head tilting; she began to laugh at Mary's annoyed looks.

"Please Mary if you want to sound more convincing, do find another excuse. I don't want to seem the villain here, but I know you too well like the palm of my hand Princess. I know what goes on through that head of yours and what your heart truly feels."

Mary was taken aback after Susan finished. Her friend did know her very well. They had been friends since her younger years in Ludlow at the Welsh Marches. After her Household had been disbanded and she was forced to serve her sister at Hertfordshire they'd been separated –then when Queen Jane took the place of Anne Boleyn as her father's wife, Mary was reunited with Susan –since then they had rarely been separated.

"So is it him again?" Susan insisted.

Mary finally gave in to Susan's insistence. "Yes, since me and Ph-I mean the Duke of Bavaria have began to have correspondence His Excellency keeps telling me that he is only after my money and position. We had a big argument because of that" Mary finished.

She and Chapuys had had their disagreements in the past, but never this big.

He still needed good convincing that the young Duke was not the scheming, ambitious and opportunist that he [and many others] made him out to be. He was rather sweet when she'd met him, if anyone had been rude it had been her!

She had taken him for a Heretic, and he still might be she was still not sure where his allegiances truly lied, but she was sure that if he were to come England –just like she had changed her mind about the Queen and Phillip; he too could change his mind about Lutheranism. He seemed like a reasonable man after all.

"You are always very close to your marriage prospects. You care too much what His Majesty has to say, but after everything you have seen, you know that your father can change his mind very quickly, he could have called off this proposal yet he hasn't." Susan mentioned.

"No. Because the Queen is pregnant with his next Duke of York" Mary snapped.

"Possible Duke of York, you never know" said Susan occasionally causing Mary to frown.

How could Susan say that! That was treason if somebody were to hear them … But nobody hears us, it is just a little worry more of your paranoia, she told herself. Why don't you listen to Susan, listen to your heart for once? She suddenly asked herself. She wanted to; she pretended marriage wasn't important to her but it really was, it was on her mind constantly since Chapuys presented the offer of Dom Luiz. She would think of it every day, and Phillip's letters and love poems were not helping.

Mary refrained herself quickly and her frown disappeared as she said to Susan: "I have heard that the last soothsayer said that the Queen was carrying a son."

Susan barked in laughter. Mary was surprised how bold [and how carless] Susan could be at times. Was she not afraid that someone could hear them? That she could get in trouble? Apparently not as Susan went to say –"If it is the same Soothsayer that predicted that your sister was going to be the Prince of Wales, I would not be counting on it"

"You are going to get into deep trouble if someone hears you, the walls have ears" Mary said cautiously her eyes blazing with dismay as Susan kept laughing.

Susan's laughter finally stopped.

"Mary don't be too paranoid. We are at Hunsdon and I agree nowhere is ever safe, but if there is one place were we are more safe to speak is right here in your bedchamber. You know you may be right"

"Oh" Mary said raising an eyebrow. That was a change, Susan actually agreeing with her for once.

"And tell what am I right on?"

"About the Duke of York" Susan said. Mary saw the look on her friend's face, she mentally groaned she knew where this was going and she didn't like it.

"No Susan, no! My father has too much of my enemies that would be against this marriage. He is a Duke, a ruler Duke at that with many financial problems, but one who is too close to the Palatinate now that Chapuys tells me that his brother has no heirs, and close relatives of his [with old age and their heirs dying] Cranmer and even Cromwell would think it would give me too much power. Besides, can you think of a Catholic Princess marrying a Lutheran?" Susan groaned "Would anyone buy this farce?" Mary finished asking.

"The same thing you were saying minutes ago." Susan cried "You are becoming too repetitive Mary, in fact what are you not saying? This is the second time this week that you expressed worry about your betrothal to Phillip of Bavaria. There is something else isn't … something that you are afraid to say." She stopped seeing the frown returning to Mary's face. Mary did not want to hear what her best friend had to say but before she could rush to say something Susan beat her to it - "All your life you were raised to become the next Queen of England, you were led to believe you were unique …"

"I am unique" Cried Mary interrupting her friend Susan.

Susan ignored and continued. –" … and after all your marriage betrothals being left under the rug you feel lessened, you feel betrayed because Phillip of Bavaria no matter how much power he will acquire if he inherits his uncles' castles and titles, it will never put him up to the level of the great Catholic Princes of Europe, Princes who will inherit larger fortunes than you can ever hope"

"That is enough Susan –"

"You can't let yourself be pushed aside. Since you were a child Mary –" she sighed, frustration clear in her voice she took a one big step forward "you have been taught that duty first, feelings later. Well Mary times are changing, and I don't mean the changes of Heretics and Catholics abroad, I mean here in England. Milady if you want to be Queen, God be willing you have to adapt like the rest of us"

"I cannot" said Mary firmly.

"You will have to! Otherwise how can you be a good Queen to your subjects? To nobles and to peasants? In times of Richard the Lion Heart Kings would do as they please, but that is no longer true, now we are obliged not by Divine Right but this new current men call humanism, bah humbug I say but it is the new reality nonetheless."

Mary had never heard her friend speak with such disdain for anything other than Lutheranism, like Mary she hated Lutheran with a passion, especially after Anne Boleyn had taken her mother's place. Susan had told Mary how she bore nothing but hatred for that [as Chapuys called her]  _thin old woman_  –and that she almost threw a party at her house when she learned of the Harlot's death.

Susan, her dear Susan. She was a good friend, honest and subtle yet direct with Mary, the only one so far besides Chapuys.

Mary felt she could always be honest with Susan, but this time it was different. Mary tried to keep her mind on the task at hand. But thinking was so hard of late; her mind felt like swirling mists on the river Thames. I want to see Phillip again, to tell him that I am scared, to be honest to my father and say that I do accept the betrothal  _with all my heart_. I can still remember when I hid behind the curtains [how many times of that? Oh yes!] -four times and heard how his voice changed whenever he said my name. I was enchanted that first time that he said that I was the most beautiful creature [not in Christendom but on God's green earth] –she kept repeating herself as memories of Phillip's first visit kept resurfacing. I do! I do want to see him again, I must if I am to make my mind about the betrothal. She wanted to bring it out into the light at last, be done with it.

She finally expressed it to Susan realizing her friend wasn't backing down –"I wrote to him, the first time that I received his letters I was mad, I thought Chapuys might be right –he was too interested in me and it was not for the right reasons but then … things began to change" Mary's voice softened "his letters changed, his tone softened, he became less pushy, he began to talk more about himself, ask about me, my interests. I replied and he replied back, simple as that." By the time she finished there was a smile on Mary's face.

"You've fallen for him. Then it is not true what they said" Susan mumbled, she was too close to Mary that she heard her.

"What is that Susan?" Mary asked awaiting her friend's answer with a slight grin. Knowing Susan she could expect a riddle or a surprise from the mischievous smile.

Susan smirked. "That distance kills just as time. I see the opposite at work … fate is smiling at you Princess, don't pass this chance" Susan said the last sentence she said, she was serious smirk and smile gone.

Mary nodded. She had been thinking too hard on this betrothal. She was not scared, no, that was not it. In all her years only two times Mary would admit she was scared and that was with never seeing her mother again [when they had been separated] and the threat of the Duke of Norfolk and Cromwell mentioning –if she refused to sign- her father would put her to death.

She was nervous, this was not just any issue they were talking about, this was a man … a man!

Susan seeing the worry returning on Mary's dark grey pupils, put both her hands on her shoulders. "Mary nobody but you deserves happiness, don't let it go"

Mary looked into Susan's brown orbs, nodding.

"What is wrong Mary?"

"Every marriage proposal –"

"Shh –It is going to be alright" Susan said and immediately hugged her Mary.

Mary didn't know what to think. She hated appearing weak, even if it was in front of her friend. She felt confused about all these new array of emotions, she wanted to wish them away but she couldn't, her heart was finally overpowering her reason and she ceded to Susan's embrace putting her arms around Susan too.

"It is going to be alright" She heard Susan's words repeat themselves in her mind. No good opportunity had presented itself before without disappointment, this time she felt it was different. With Phillip coming by July to greet her pregnant cousin and her, she would have the opportunity to ask him what his thoughts, his real feelings were on the matter of their betrothal. If she could look into his eyes again, she could become convinced and she could finally make a decision.

Until then … she was now in Susan's arms where she felt safe.

* * *

_"As you turn to walk away I saw another look in your eye_

_even if it hurt like it did , I couldn't let this be your goodbye"_  ~ **Behind Those Eyes by Three Doors Down**

* * *

The Ambassador asked his servant anything else he could tell him of Phillip, anything he could use to give the Princess reasonable doubt against her father's proposal.

The Emperor and especially Maria of Hungary had made it clear that he had to stop this at all costs, talk to his cousin, her Aunt, each said –convince her that he was nothing more than an opportunist. He had tried –it was no use. It seemed the Princess was becoming  _too_ smitten by the boy's letters.

Poets, he hated them all, and now the boy was using poetry to woo the Princess … disgusting. More disgusting was that his Lady was falling for it!

Fleming came into his chamber. He had called Fleming earlier to bring him ink and more water. It was June but it was too hot. He hated this climate, he hated this land and [except for one, maybe two when Fleming wasn't meddlesome] he hated its people. Why was he ever here? He kept asking himself.

"Your water and ink sir" Said Fleming with a neutral tone watching him struggle as he came to his desk and began pouring water on his empty goblet.

He began to write afterwards, but he looked up to see Fleming was still there.

"Anything else Sir?" Fleming asked with the same emotionless tone.

Chapuys mentally growled. Of all his servants did Fleming have to be the one who was the more reckless? You couldn't find good service these days, another reason to make him hate this God forsaken island!

"No Fleming you can go now" Chapuys said and Fleming left.

He began writing, first to Maria of Hungary since she [and the Emperor agreed] would be the first one to know about how everything was going. She wasn't going to be too happy like the Emperor –when she told her that no progress was being made and the King had rejected Marillac's proposal as his with Dom Luiz. Phillip of Bavaria, he mentioned as he was now halfway through the paper, had decided [apparently encouraged by Lady Mary herself] to come early on June the 24th. He would arrive to Greenwich where he would pay his respects to his pregnant cousin and to the King, he would from there argue with the Master Secretary for what –he could not tell but he could infer it all had to do with the betrothal of Lady Mary and the promise of a stronger union between England and the Protestant territories in Germany. From there he would travel to Hunsdon where he would meet with the Lady Mary and formally ask for her hand. This could only mean one thing, he finally wrote to the Queen of Hungary –that Lady Mary was going to accept his proposal.

As he finished his letter he put the pen down.

He stopped to think of all that he wrote, everything as he read the letter was in perfect detail –too perfect he noticed.

The more he looked at what he wrote, the more puzzled he became. He tried to explain it being less subjective but he couldn't, not when it concerned the Lady Mary, the only person he considered not to be tainted by the natural malice in her Country. He had to say it nonetheless.

He had tried to say this to Lady Mary, but the last time he was close they had a big argument where they nearly ended up angry at each other. Thankfully Lady Mary had accepted in the end that she had her own doubts about the marriage proposal, and also expressed that she thought it odd how Phillip was very insistent.

She is naïve; I have heard her voice many time change when the subject of marriage approaches. She believes that she is not destined for happiness but I told her no person deserves it more than her. Lady Mary has been Godmother to many children, to Jane Brandon –the Duke of Suffolk's four month granddaughter, to Mistress Susan's children, her half sibling and she has been a substitute mother for the Harlot's daughter the Lady Elizabeth against my own advice.

Chapuys was convinced there would be no better wife and mother in all Christendom than his sweet Lady. She was pious, of modest behavior and subtle like her late mother the good Queen Katherine of Aragon.

Any man she would make him happy. -Any man indeed –but not him! Not that boy, that opportunist Duke!

Chapuys wanted to see her happy but not with him, he was sure it would be the mistake of her life if she married him. She would throw her life away, her claim to the throne away, greatness away for what? -For love, good looks and a little poetry?

He shook his head. That was why he hated love, because it made people go crazy, it made them abandon their reason and become mindless slave.

No, love was a disease, one he hoped never to catch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this story first in fanfiction but I wanted to see how it fared in this site and so far there have been a fair amount of views. I hope I get more as I upload more chapters. Please leave your comments below and tell me what you think.


	4. Fallen Angel or Heavenly One?

" _Your masquerade strange as the God you worship. Don't tell me you never saw me, deep in your face I see the drone thoughts keeping you from finding happiness. You give yourself to him, and you walk away from me._

_What kind are you? Just what have you turned into?_

_I can't forget all the time that I stuck by you. I need you now but it is clear –_

_You don't need me now" ~_ **Stuck with your memory by Anonymous**

* * *

**June 30** **th**

**Plymouth, England**

At the end of June Phillip's boat touched English shores, they landed on Plymouth; from there he was received by Count Orliesger, the Cleves Ambassador and the Master Secretary Thomas Cromwell.

He greeted both gentlemen. They arrived to Whitehall hours later where he would meet his cousin and His Majesty for a second time … and of course with the Lady Mary.

He yearned to see her again. It seemed like an Eternity since their paths had been crossed.

* * *

**London, Whitehall**

**Court Room**

As the people came pouring in, Phillip took a seat at the front of the left table, putting him closer to where the Archbishop and the Master Secretary were seated at the High Table. The King was there at the center obviously, next to him Phillip's cousin, Anne of Cleves.

"Drink" he said, and the people raised his goblets, Phillip followed them in the same fashion, "For we have a joyous fall awaiting us with the arrival of a Duke of York!" The King roared and tipped the cup, as he lowered it did he see that everyone, including Phillip the King's cousin cheered in joy. If the Queen, his cousin brought him a boy, she would be secured and she would never have to worry about returning to Cleves to her abusive brother, or having to suffer the King's wrath. Phillip himself would not have to worry about the King dismissing his betrothal to the Lady Mary –like he had with many other suitors.

He was different, other suitors had been afraid to come to England, except her cousin at one time her second suitor, but Charles had been ambitious and double tricked him, the King of England had every reason to be wary of him.

In spite of this, the King was still considering his proposal and the union between the Wittelsbach and the Tudor House to further strengthen the alliance between England and the German States that had separated them from the Empire's rule, from Charles.

The room grew heated in spite of the open window; guests at the banquet crowded around the tables [even if there was no more room] to taste the generous fare and sample the dark red wine, the mead and of course the famous English liquor –ale, and lyres and the choir headed by the Court's musician provided joyful music and entertainment that was soon drowned out by the talking.

As Mary looked around, entering the Court Room, she realized that there were a great many people present, many whom she did not recognize. It was clear she had been absent from Court life long enough. She needed to reconnect with all the new faces.

A few were recognizable by their clothing, like the French Ambassador Marillac, she had met him only once during the Queen's arrival to English shores, they hadn't talk much other than a simple greeting to one another. She kept looking for more familiar faces, she expected to see the Imperial Ambassador, His Excellency Eustace Chapuys, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he felt sick? She hoped not, she cared a lot for his well being.

She kept looking as she took a seat [miraculous there were some left] at the left table along with her maids Susan and Sophie. Today two of her maids she was less closed to had been absent, Mary told them to.

As if it had been all pre ordained she heard an all familiar voice from behind.

"I never thought I was invisible milady" She turned, there was Phillip of Bavaria staring right at her, a smile on his face.

She blushed, she had never been approached with such boldness, yet with such sweetness from a man she rarely knew, except through one visit that had lasted only a day, and of course constant correspondence between them in the last five months.

"I thought you would never come milady" He said. "May I kiss your hand?" He asked shyly like before.

He didn't have to ask, it was his to take, why couldn't he understand that? But she said nothing and raised her hand; he took it and kissed it. The touch of his soft lips enchanted her, everything about him did.

"I trust you found everything alright so far?" She asked.

He nodded "I did. I have found nothing but joy in this Country. I feel like I could like this Country, its people are full of faith there is so much beauty here –but nothing compares to yours" He said.

Mary's attention now hung completely at what he'd said, she blushed once more this time more noticeable as Phillip let out a light chuckle.

"Forgive my impetuosity but if you could come to the guest room your father is letting my stay in Whitehall tonight, I have something to show you milady. It is not a gift, but a game?"

Do you like games? Francis Bryan, the King's muscle had asked her nearly the same question four years ago, she had said yes and that caused him to laugh at her. She'd said that he was only mocking her and then she left. This time, she felt it was different, Phillip wasn't doing it with the purpose of mocking her, he was doing it to get to know her better and that inspired more confidence in her.

"Sure" she said and that made him smile even more, influenced by it she smiled too.

* * *

 

" _There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion"_

**~Francis Bacon in Essays: Civil and Moral, "Of Beauty"**

* * *

 

Chapuys came to Court a late, and that was because he awoke with a worse pain in his leg. He hated that it was affecting the way he did business, in the years before Queen Jane he could move around freely without the worry of gout, now that he was getting older the gout was getting worse.

But he moved nonetheless to the Court Room, it helped that the banquet was in Whitehall were he currently was staying, otherwise it he would not have made it.

Fleming told him to be careful, that he should consider getting a cane. He barked in laughter at Fleming and told him he would never see his Master walking on a cane. Gout might slow him down, but he was still the same man as ten years ago, simple gout would not deter him from his duty to the Emperor … and to the Princess –the later he was more sure of it!

He moved quickly to the Court Room. The first people his look landed on were the King and Heretic Queen, Anne of Cleves who was heavily pregnant by now. He could tell that three or four more months give or take for the young woman to deliver. She would give birth to a Duke of York and that would secure her position, and bar the Lady Mary from the line of succession after her sick brother Prince Edward, or it would be another Princess like her predecessor, her name sake Anne Boleyn, and that would anger the King and he would begin the same process he did with the Harlot, he would divorce her … or worse –with the King of England Chapuys told himself, anything was possible. The man was capable of everything to get what he wanted.

He looked to the right side, there he found the Lady Elizabeth not surprising with Mistress Kat Ashley and walking to the High Table giving her father and stepmother a deep curtsy showing them her respects. The Queen embraced her stepdaughter and gave her a slight kiss on her brow, her father did too. It seemed like slowly the King; influenced no doubt by Cranmer and the Heretical Queen, was replacing his jewel and pearl for the Harlot's daughter.

The girl was ambitious, he could see that by the way he looked at her stepmother and then at Chapuys, a glee in her eyes as if saying she has won.

Oh no Lady Elizabeth, you have won the battle but not milady's war, you will see! Chapuys sent one look back at her.

His look then traveled left where he heard a loud giggle that could come from no one other than the Princess. There she was sitting next to the Duke of Bavaria.

So he came early, Chapuys told himself, and he does not come alone, his charm and his usual happiness were with him to enchant his sweet Lady.

His teeth clenched seeing the boy so close to his Lady, first making her laugh and then whispering something to her ear that only made her laugh. Being around many of the High Circles in England and in the Imperial Courts of Spain and Flanders, he could only imagine what a boy like him could have said to his lady.

Did she not realize she was being fooled with his the "sweet and kind" role that he was putting up for her? Nobody could be that good or that perfect.

He had seen much of the world to know better. His Lady should have more common sense than just give the best of her to him.

But he would not say anything to her about him, it was not his business to meddle with the Princess' suitors, but then he remembered the Queen of Hungary and the Emperor's last letters. They were not merely telling him, they were ordering him, pushing him to do everything possible to break that betrothal.

It was going to be near impossible, the Queen looking back at the High table –now the Lady Elizabeth was seated in between her and her the King, was five months pregnant, she was ready to enter her third trimester. And if the Lady Mary kept her infatuation with the Duke of Bavaria and Count Palatine she would be imposed [based on her growing feelings for the Duke] to ask her father's permission to marry. If the Queen [though she wasn't the love of his life but she carried his child, and that mattered to a King whose Dynasty was still questioned] maintained her healthy pregnancy, the King would grant his daughter's wish.

Seeing the Duke smile even wider, laughing at whatever joke Mary was telling him, Chapuys could tell that he was a man of the old code, he had been raised with ideals of chivalry and honor. Like any good "honorable" fellow he would ask for her hand in marriage first –and the Queen favoring such union, as did the Master Secretary and Cranmer, he would approve.

* * *

Around them as soon as the sun began to set, people began to leave. Mary and Phillip could have taken this chance to leave too but Phillip told her he wanted to dance with her first, since they hadn't the chance too, dance floor had been very crowded at the start of the banquet.

Mary accepted his invitation.

Never once did she notice the Ambassador looking attentively at her and the Duke.

While she was dancing with the Duke of Bavaria and her sister was winning back the confidence of her father and her new stepmother, never once did she took notice of Chapuys.

He realized he couldn't be in the same room anymore, it was eating him inside seeing her so happy and yet it was a paradox in itself, for he also felt some sort of relief seeing her so happy for the very first time in her life, and it killed him more to see the Lady Mary gripping the Duke's hand while they danced.

Deciding he had enough to bear, he walked away leaving the two to remain lost in each other's stare.

* * *

 

After the guests had all retired to their respective rooms, Mary and Phillip retired to hers.

The living room, he found it surprisingly [considering she was the eldest daughter of King Henry VIII and his supposed favorite] to be very small and humble looking. One sofa and two comfortable looking chairs and in total only three small pillows all which were on the sofas, the sofa in fact was too small that the pillows seemed to fill the space entirely. The only thing that was big enough and had great designs was the fireplace

She prepared to take her cloak; she let Phillip borrow one of hers. Even if the halls of Whitehall were deserted they had to be careful not to be seen. With cloaks the guards, if they spotted them would think they were just two more courtiers engaging in inappropriate behavior, they would let them be. It would be very different if they noticed one of those Courtiers was the King's daughter.

Even if she was a bastard Princess, she was still her father's property, and her destiny was still in his hands.

If she wanted to remain with Phillip, and vice verse, they had to show an appropriate behavior.

When she put on hers, Mary noticed Phillip hadn't put on his yet.

"Something wrong Lady Mary?" He asked her with a mischievous smile.

"Put on the cloak we don't want the guards to be suddenly crowded with guards do we?" She said adding a grin in the last part.

He smirked, through his smile he showed his perfect white teeth. She could see them better now as the candles next to him on top of the fireplace made it appear like there was a holy aura radiating from him. "Of course not milady but I think of another way to escape them more effectively"

"And that is?" Mary asked skeptic with one eye brow raised as she took one step forward.

He advanced towards her, they were centimeters apart now. The fires from her candle were the only thing illuminating them. Susan and Sophie had been dismissed even before the party ended.

"Allow me to give your present"

"Phillip" Mary started but he didn't let her finish.

"My present to you was to big enough to carry, since I met you I have not been able to think of anyone else but you. You have bewitched me and I have not seen any other creature more beautiful, more kind than yourself. You are an angel Princess."

He didn't need to say more -his lips connected with hers, it was an innocent kiss, and Mary found herself responding to it.

This was heaven, this was now. Mary felt like she could take on everything now. He didn't rush take one more step after their lips parted. It was enough for now, she was a Lady, an angel, his angel and she deserved to be treated with respect.

After their lips parted she looked somehwat sweeter-tempered than before, he thought. And then as he looked deeper into her dark grey eyes he saw somethign that for a second he could have mistake for confusion, but just as it made itself present in her eyes, it instantly disappeared the next second. The only thing left now was suprise and happiness.

He was about to say forgive me, but anticipating it Mary said "Thank you"

And before he could leave, Mary in the same fashion she had done years ago with Robert Aske, she took one earing and placed it on Phillip's hand. "It will be our promise ring" She said with a hint of amusement that he could not help but chuckle.

In return he took his family ring, "Family earloom" he said and placed it on the same hand Mary had used to place the ring in his.

Now they had each a promise, one they intended to keep.

"Mary" he said using her first name for the first time. "If you take me as your husband, if your father accepts I promise I will treassure you always"

Mary nodded "I know and so will I. We will be together, before the Queen delivers we will convince my father to approve of our union"

Her words made him happy, but it made Mary even more. For now she would have everything she dreamed of, family, heirs to give England and Bavaria and a loving husband by her side -always.

"Now it is my turn to forgive myself but you must leave, if we are to convince my father we must show ourselves with decency"

Phillip nodded smiling greater. "I agree but first." he said taking Mary's hand and kissing it. He kissed her right where she had put his ring on, in her middle finger.

He left seconds later. She looked at her ring, there was a beautiful gem in the center surrounded by the Latin inscription of "yours always".

She kept smiling, taking a deep breath she ran to her bed chamber and still in her purple gown that she had worn to the banquet, she collapsed on top of her bed not bothering to get under the bedcovers, she felt too hot and it was not the climate that made her feel this way, it was the ring on her middle finger as she still heard his words. She finally closed her eyes and slept peacefully.


	5. Deluge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding is finally here and you are formally invited!  
> There will be more than two first person POV in this chapter besides Eustace and Mary, the rest will be regular third person point of view.  
> Song: Stupid Girl by Abel

" _When the light hits your eyes at night_

_You are hypnotized_

_Don't be a fool for the wolves in disguise_

_[You are not a stupid girl]_

_The grammar in your head is playing dead_

_Sugar tongue rolling of your lips, whispering:_

_[You are not a stupid girl]_

_Cause you are climbing the list_

_Pretty little …_

_Box Office hit and Miss._

_You always kiss before you're kissed._

_[You are not a stupid girl]_

_You always want to leave before you're missed_

_You're never going to be the same_

_Cause you are flirting with fame_

_In a city of angels_

_They are calling your name!_

_Only in Hollywood_

_I am sorry for all the clouds in your eyes_

_You were always were the kind to look in the rainy night_

_I think you only want what you think you can't have_

_You lie so much you believe yourself_

_Cause you climbing off the list_

_You pretty little …_

_Box office hit and Miss_

_You always kiss before you're kissed_

_[You are not a stupid girl]_

_You always want to leave before you're missed_

_You're never going to be the same_

_Cause you are flirting with fame_

_In a city of angels_

_They are calling your name!_

_Only in Hollywood_

_Yeah_

_Only in Hollywood_

_Yeah_

_Climbing off the list pretty little …_

_Box office hit and Miss_

_You always kiss before you are kissed._

_[You are not a stupid girl]_

_You always want to leave before you're missed_

_You're never going to be the same_

_Cause you are flirting with fame_

_In a city of angels_

_They are calling your name!_

_Only in Hollywood_

_You're flirting with fame in a city of angels_

_They are calling your name_

_Only in Hollywood"_

**~"Stupid Girl [Only in Hollywood]" by Saving Abel**

* * *

**1540, July 1st**

**Greenwich: Lady Mary's Chambers**

There was still a chance his Lady for him to make his Lady see reason. She was doing a big mistake wanting to wed the young Duke.

He knocked furiously at Lady Mary's door, he was answered by Susan whose green eyes bore into his ocean blue eyes.

"Your Excellency" She greeted showing a deep curtsy for the Imperial Ambassador.

Chapuys nodded "Is the Lady Mary here?" he asked with a rushed tone that took Susan by surprise. She nodded.

"Lady Mary just finished supper. Should I tell her –"

He didn't let her finish, he opened the door completely and walked past her. Despite that he felt the pain in his leg he rushed to meet the Lady Mary.

Lady Mary was surprised to see him bursting unannounced by Susan or any other of her maids into her rooms.

"Excellency I wasn't expecting you" She began with a worried tone as she saw the cold look on his eyes that she was taken aback. "Is something wrong?" She suddenly ask.

Something wrong? You are really are asking me that now Princess when you are about to throw your life away –greatness away? Something is very wrong Princess, you are flirting with the Duke of Bavaria, a man who has lost more money than gained! –he'd wanted to say.

He had been sent strict orders by the Emperor to do everything to convince his cousin no to wed the Heretic German Prince. He guaranteed nothing to the Emperor except that he would try his best, but try was not a word to be used for the man who controlled half of Europe! He needed more assurance than that, he needed to know that Chapuys would be up to the task. He had told Chapuys in his last letter, along with his daughter, that if there was one person at Earth who could convince their cousin, that was him!

He was not going to fail them this time.

But the Princess proved to be more stubborn than her liege, the King of England as he told her about the grave mistake she was about to make –"Princess you have to start questioning the Duke of Bavaria's motives to want to marry you"

Mary's eyes became wide, was he suggesting that he had other motives? Her money –well of course he had to have that motive, it was the purpose of a Royal marriage after all –the dowry, that wasn't so strange –she mentioned to Chapuys.

But that was not what he meant.

"Milady," he started again "I have reason to believe, your cousin too asks that you consider rethinking the Duke's proposal"

Mary's eyebrows were raised. How could her cousin ask her that? She was finally going to have what she wanted all along, a family, a chance to settle down and have children.

She could have had that by now if not by two years when her cousin refused to pay most of the dowry. Twenty Thousand ducats, she meant it when she said to Chapuys that even merchant's daughters received more than a fourth of their father's income in two years. Why couldn't the Emperor make a better effort and pay the rest of her dowry –if he had England and the Empire would not have been on such bad loose ties, for one Chapuys would never have been forced to leave –and they would not been having this discussion!

"If the Emperor wants me to reconsider then he can also reconsider Dom Luis of Portugal. Three years since you told of me of him Your Excellency and I am still waiting" She announced.

Chapuys sighed. This was not the time for his Lady to be stubborn! This was her future, only she could restore England to its rightful Church, if she married a Lutheran all hopes of that happening would be lost.

"This is not about what the Emperor can bring to you milady but what you can bring to England. I have mentioned that I have spoken to many High Courtiers who think that you still could have a chance if the Queen were to bear His Majesty a daughter like her first namesake …" he said being sly " … of becoming Queen. Your brother is a very sick boy, and his health is not getting any better, he may not live to adulthood. You as the oldest daughter would be the next in line for the throne of England and it only makes sense that you be since your mother was an anointed Queen of England while the Prince though a boy, was not"

"Excellency!" Mary exclaimed surprised. How could he bring that up, Edward and the late Jane Seymour into the conversation? He was crossing a line, she thought, he was not supposed to cross. He knew better than to bring that subject up again. "I have given you more liberty to speak your mind than my own father or my maids for that matter! What makes you think you can barge in here unannounced and speak against my decision to marry the Duke of Bavaria! He will make a fine husband, he is –"

"Not fitting for you! Think milady why has he been so insistent? It is not your dowry he wants, he wants to stay here otherwise why prolong his visit, why insist to come here on person why so desperate to reach you? An honorable fellow waits until the King's approval to wed his daughter –the Duke of Bavaria and Count Palatine has done more than just barge into your Father's Court. He has acted more on self interest, it is all an act milady, he is no different than any other Courtier that passed in your Father's Court" He cried with a harsh tone. He hated doing this to her, shattering her dreams but he had to. Any means possible his Master had said, but he had his own motives not to see her wed to the opportunist Heretic, whom in his mind was too below her.

"So I continue to wait then?" She said softly but her eyes betrayed that softness as they hardened at the Ambassador.

"I told you the Emperor will provide, once your father sees the light and he agrees to Dom Luiz …"

Mary cut him of with an even colder tone. "And by then my father's leg will be beyond repair to make anymore babies, and I will be an old maid with more ailments that I will be of no desire to any other man. No Your Excellency I am not meant for happiness as long as I continue to listen to your advice"

"My advice has kept you alive!" He reminded her.

"And a single Lady. Maybe that is what the Emperor wants of me, to have a single maid, a puppet!"

"Your cousin cares more about your welfare than you will know!"

"Then why refuse to pay the rest my father's dowry when he said he had every intention to marry me, he married my other cousin instead? He couldn't wait for a four year old to reach the age of twelve I see –and then with Dom Luis well that was another disappointment, he didn't want to pay all my dowry. Disappointment after disappointment! I am sick of it!" She spat.

"Understand that you are not the Emperor's subject you never were, the Emperor has his own problems with the Turks and keeping the Spanish Netherlands away from that Heretic's influence. You marrying one of his enemies is no help at all to his cause" He said his voice low and guarded, yet cold as Mary's.

"Then I am very sorry, but as you said I am not his subject why should I worry anymore what he approves of me?" She said coyly

Chapuys wanted to march up to the Princess and scream at her that it wasn't what he meant! Why was it so hard for her to understand that she was giving it all up –for love! The biggest jest of all!

The Princess continued "The Emperor is the head of the Tratasmara and the Hapsburg family, I am a Tudor, the head of my family is my father but I will always have a special place in my heart for my cousin, nothing would cause me greater happiness to heart that he approves, but if he does not forgive or accept my decision then I will not lament it. I am the daughter of the rightful Queen in England, the only anointed Queen so far, but if you want me to ascend to the throne as is your ambition, I will not do it alone –I will need heirs, my father's Dynasty is still under question after all Excellency" She finished.

Chapuys nodded at her last comment. She was right there –the Tudor Dynasty was still relatively new and was much in question by the other ruling Dynasties in Europe, even the Heretic Rulers had their questions regarding its validity.

 _I have underestimated how far she is willing to spend fighting for this boy._ Chapuys thought.  _I failed my Master … and I failed her to convince her that this will be the mistake of her life!_

"You're sure you will find everything you need from him? A poor man with nothing to give but  _love_  and _fidelity_ " he asked sarcastic.

"Yes" Mary said forcefully, clenching her teeth she also formed fists and she could feel her nails digging through the skin walls of her palms.

Chapuys saw this and then looked up at her to say "And what do you think your children will be as rulers of Bavaria and England?" He said in a demanding tone. "A male heir to the throne of England and to Bavaria and co ruler to the Palatinate -will he bring the territories back to the Roman Catholic church?" He asked being skeptic.

"Of course" she said quickly, too quickly Chapuys noticed.

"And for that he will have to be taught in our ways, ways of the truth, such a terrible time for you to teach them when all around you Heretics and Catholics are being burned"

"Truth is the daughter of Time Excellency!" She snapped harshly sounding more determined yet her eyes still held more insecurity.

"And would you teach him or her, them? When you are going to be very busy giving the Duke children, who will teach them-"

"I will –"

She didn't get finish as Chapuys interrupted her again with a rushed tone that also carried venom as he said the Duke's name –"Phillip of Bavaria will choose his tutors, including if sources are right and he chooses his friends correctly which in your father's Court happens to be the Heretics. An opportunist he will play the game better than yourself. No Princess your children will be Heretics!"

"That is enough!" She yelled coming closer to Chapuys now they were only centimeters apart. "I have given you freedom" she repeated "more than any other, but you are never to speak to me like that understood?"

"Understood" He said but that did not deter him from where he stood with Phillip of Bavaria, he had to say something else, something that he hope would leave his Lady thinking better about her intended marriage with the Duke.

"In a Country where everything is possible, we all have to take sides, and sacrifices" he said carefully and slowly "you will have to take one too. Will you be the woman, independent and brave to bring your Country back to the True Faith, or will you fall prey to the same disease that took three women's lives. Greatness without sacrifice is not possible, you can't have two masters. You can't serve Phillip and God at the same time!" He cried wanting to add more but seeing the look on her face made him stop at once.

She was tired, he could see that. Since she was four she was presented betrothal after betrothal … she got nothing in the end. Here she was twenty years later after her first betrothal to the Dauphin of France unwed. The Duke of Bavaria could very well be her last opportunity of a marriage.

It was a sacrifice she would have to make, duty to her father or to God. Whatever it was that mattered more to her, one thing was certain -she had to choose now.

And that is what she did, "The wedding will be scheduled in less than a month if my father agrees to it. That is a certainty my cousin and my niece the Queen of Hungary can't debate him on. I will be married Excellency, and I hope that the Emperor and my niece can put their differences aside for my happiness" she chose Phillip of Bavaria.

* * *

" _Why do we walk away thinking it is the only way to solve our problems? Do we really think is that easy? Are we that naive? A Prince coming to our rescue in his white horse? Give me a break, please! It can never happen in real life!_

_Why not?_

_Because real life is too complicated._

_Why? It doesn't have to be –it can all be sweet filled with cookies and cream. Mmm… cookies and cream._

_You are delusional_

_Is everything that has to do with happiness delusional?_

_Yes. Nothing is perfect, happiness is an illusion"_

**~"Two on Love" by Carolina Casas (2nd Grade 1996)**

* * *

**Westminster: Wedding Ceremony**

**July 17** **th**

He found the happiness he'd witnessed to Lady Mary to be intoxicating. The next day everyone at Court had known about the Duke and his Lady. Early in the morning they'd both been summoned by the King of England at a very unholy hour.

Raphael's contacts, also servants said that they'd barely been presentable to their King. Phillip of Bavaria not even wore a hate and his doublet was all messed up, if he didn't know better Raphael was implying that he had worn it backwards!

That was the husband his Lady had picked then! An insistent yet clueless boy!

Lady Mary Raphael said, according to what the servants told him was no better. She wore a simple pale green gown, the same she'd outgrown three years ago when he'd presented to her the prospect of marriage to Dom Luis of Portugal. Back then he had not cared for her prospects, and he felt no sadness when she turned down the offer –she said it was to avoid her father's wrath, if one thing she cared more than her own happiness and God, was her pleasing her father.

Those had been simpler days. Queen Jane had been alive, she [his Lady] had been happy [and also] less desperate for a marriage proposal. But she'd only been twenty one at the time she probably thought that she had enough time -until her father would approve of a suitor for her.

The Princess was acting –to his surprise- like a love sick puppy throwing herself at the first man that came her way. This was not his Princess; his Princess would think things more clearly. What was going on?

Raphael had finished the tale the English servants told him, with the Princess Mary asking, nearly pleading to her father to let her marry Phillip of Bavaria. The King had pondered going deep in thought. Chapuys could imagine His Majesty now.

He secluded himself, probably talked this over with Cromwell and then with his Queen. Would he really want his daughter to be married? She was a Catholic Princess, but Cromwell and the Queen must have emphasized that Phillip would show no loyalty to the Pope, only to Henry –And the King must have talked to the boy in private, as the boy had with his cousin. He must have seen the honest smile, the naïve look on his face, no ambition no desire to take England. He must have reasoned that what better to strengthen the German Alliance than to offer his jewel to a Heretic Prince of the strong Wittelsbach family.

He, of course would always be wary of his daughter, his jewel and his enemy at the same time, but he had agreed nonetheless to the betrothal. And so they were scheduled to marry, helped in parts by the Queen, the wedding ceremony that would further unite Germany and England would be in a week.

After he dismissed Raphael, Chapuys went deeper in thought. He could anticipate the Emperor's and his daughter's wrath by now. They would not like this alliance at all, a Catholic Princess, a Tratasmara, a granddaughter of the great Catholics Kings, of Isabel marrying a Heretic! They would see this as his failure; if he only tried harder for the betrothal of Lady Mary and the Portugal Prince … he could almost hear it now from Maria of Hungary angry letter!

He would write to them nonetheless telling them he had done everything, throwing more excuses at their feet. No matter how angry they might be, they would still ask him to remain in England because he knew better of the Court's machinations than anyone else.

When he'd received a reply a week later the Emperor as he predicted along with his daughter, Mary of Hungary, had not been happy, they had thrown a fit of rage, especially his daughter –however Mary in the end took the last page of her letter to tell him that he would attend the wedding and report everything, regarding the ceremony, the banquet and the relation of the newly weds.

Chapuys could not have been given a worse punishment. He was forced to go on orders from Mary and his Master, he was torn between duty and by this new feeling that he wasn't sure he was feeling, or was it his mind playing tricks on him? Whether frustration, anger or jealousy he attended the wedding, and he seated at the front of the Church in Whitehall where he witnessed the Heretic Cranmer perform the service in English.

Perfidy!

Curse the Country she was born into, and curse her father and all his subjects!

Only in England he thought sourly as he paid better attention to what his Lady was wearing.

A beautiful purple gown that he would never forget for it made her radiate her perfect figure. It was tight around her waist, if she was thinner once, this made her look even more.

Among the jewels she had on, one that stood out above the rest was the jewel at the front of her dress, just below her chest. It had been a gift from Phillip of Bavaria. He had told her how much he wanted to honor her, and what better way than to give her a pendant of her mother's symbol the pomegranate, which was also a symbol of fertility.

Unlike her mother's badge however, the pendant in her dress had at the center of the fruit the Latin inscription  _VERITAS_ which meant truth

Truth and fertility, synonyms of fidelity and many children, that was expected of her to bring to the Tudor Dynasty and the Wittelsbach for Bavaria.

The boy knew how to win his Lady's heart alright.

He had seen him in Court many times after his arrival. He was a man of short words, when he talked it was only for a while but many Ladies at Court found his smile to be contagious.

She had flowers on every part of her hair –it was loose a sign of her virginity.

The Duke was dressed with a white suit that reminded Chapuys of the King's attire when he married Jane Seymour. He had a hat, Spanish style with a golden feather.

Years later Chapuys would come to regret this day, not because it had been the second worst time of his life, but because his curse at England had also been cursed his Lady –who as Cranmer pronounced the words "I now declare you husband and wife" became the new Duchess of Bavaria.

His look became downcast as he refused to look at the new Duchess and her husband.

* * *

They were all calling her name. People were honouring her, she was styled as Duchess now, it would take some time to get used to her new title, but clearly her own people hadn't had much trouble, especially her sister Elizabeth who had been Godmother in her wedding.

The younger Tudor had been very excited to be part of a wedding ceremony, and to have such a High Position. For once she had been ahead of other ladies, except her sister, before her father's eyes.

She like other of Mary's bride's maids wore a simple white gown and large french, almost halo like, of gold and white colors.

Her father and the Queen had said Elizabeth looked like an angel, and she considered she did. Even her own sister agreed. But this wasn't Elizabeth's day, she was reminded as she kept hearing people calling on Mary's name saying they had seen no more happier bride. Beauty that she irradiated, people said came from the smile she bestowed on her father's subjects.

Elizabeth couldn't help but be a little too envious, but her envy was gone when she saw the smile on the Duke of Bavaria's face. People were right to think it was contagious. Her sister had been bitten by the love bug, and she now felt like a Queen even if she was only a Duchess.

* * *

 _A Duchess_ , Mary thought,  _a Duchess and the King's eldest daughter_ ,  _his jewel_. No matter how much she loved Phillip, she would always feel she needed his love to be at ease. Her father was an important part of her life. If it hadn't been for him and her new stepmother she and Phillip would never have been. She was grateful for letting her have this independence.

Music interrupted her thoughts. There were French tunes being played, for obvious reasons she wasn't too fond of, but soon those tunes dies and more familiar tunes like English began to play and she felt more relieved with those, so did Phillip it seemed as he leaned back against his chair.

 _Only in England_ , she mused  _can you have these exquisite banquets!_

The walls of Whitehall Court Room were perfect for the wedding celebration. They were grand enough to make Mary feel that her wedding had been to someone of high status. It made Phillip feel important too, but he had shaken those thoughts away easily when he turned to look at Mary, unlike her whom still cared more about the high status that the ceremony made her feel. There were a few statues that were polished and cleaned beforehand to be ready for the celebration.

There was also food everywhere. Bowls of fruit, sweet, pastries and cakes of all kind in the High table, but it didn't stop there, below on the tables many sat on there were great jars of red wine and the tables were also rich with meat and mead. Her personal favorite pork was served to them, she didn't mind the great amount that was presented to them. She had told Phillip that no matter how much she ate -she never seemed to gain weight. People always criticized her for it so when she was young -she'd also told Phillip- she had tried to swallow as much air as she could to gain on weight but nothing worked!  
Phillip could not help but laugh at her tales. They were all true, she said annoyed. To calm her down he said he believed her. His voice was full of security that she wished she could borrow.

The only thing Phillip could do when Mary's doubtful about something was show him a smile and wild grin, and that was enough to take those doubts away from her mind.

When she'd first met Phillip she had been surprised by the level of confidence that irradiated from him, yet he was so shy. It confused her, how could a person be so sure of himself, and yet be so shy and timid in public. But it was that quality that attracted her to Phillip. He made her happy, he made her laugh and most importantly he gave her a future. Now there was no doubt in her mind, absolutely that she would never wish for anything more other than the throne of England of course.

Still, the throne did not seem as important now as was her husband and what he could bring her, family and children. Just the thought of being a mother … gave Mary a sense of bliss.

"May I take this dance?" Phillips murmured to his wife, the new Duchess.

"Of course" said Mary sweetly.

He took her hand, everything about Phillip was contagious, his smile, his happiness. They danced for the longest time.

The crowds around them parted leaving the married couple to steal the show. Everyone after the music ended clapped hard for their Princess and their new Foreign Prince.

King Henry and the Queen raised their cups "For the Duke and the Duchess" He declared.

"The Duke and the Duchess" everyone repeated bringing the liquor to their lips.

Mary and Phillip went to sit at the High Table were Elizabeth, Mary's younger sister sat in between them. Elizabeth said she would not have it other way, and while to other men they would have been bothered by the younger girl's impetuosity, Phillip was not. He found her behavior amusing. Mary could tell already by their exchanged smiles they would be great friends.

"What are you going to name your first children?" Elizabeth suddenly asked.

Phillip chuckled "It is a little too early to be thinking about that isn't it young Princess?"

Elizabeth giggled. Mary could tell she liked being called Princess and the sign of affection she was receiving by her brother in law.

Elizabeth who opened her mouth after her giggles died down, to speak didn't have the chance to voice her opinion as Mary beat her to it.

"I think Elizabeth is right Phillip. We could bring more heirs to the Tudor Dynasty and your family" She declared.

Phillip nodded but in his eyes she found the look of disapproval, but thankfully it disappeared as Elizabeth piped up "Mary is right papa needs more heirs, enough is never enough"

Phillip found himself defeated by the two sisters, they sure had one temper that he would find later was impossible to beat.

"Well if our Ladies want me to produce a heir, then the best I can do is deliver" He said.

Mary liked the way he said it, jokingly and yet confident that he could bring her what she most desired –a child.

"So what will the name be?" Elizabeth pressed.

Now it was Mary's turn to laugh, her sister was very hyperactive, it was probably the result of so many sweets, peaches, apples and other fruits.

Phillip answered Elizabeth with a reassuring smile as he took his wife's hand across his table to show their everlasting union. "We don't know yet, but when we have our son or daughter you will be the first one to know"

Elizabeth was content with that, being the hyperactive pre teen she was, she stood from her chair and ran to the dance floor where she met with her cousin, the Earl of Surrey, Henry Howard whom their father called "the proudest boy in all of England" and began to dance at the beat of the music.

Mary found it odd that the Earl of Surrey was here. She thought all the Howards had been dismissed from Court after … Anne Boleyn –her mind reminded her.

As if Phillip had been reading her thoughts he said "The Howards have returned ever since they brought their new niece to be my cousin's new Lady In Waiting"

"And who is that?" Asked Mary astounded, she touched Phillip's family heirloom feeling a sense of déjà vu as he told her all about this new niece –her name Kitty Howard and how she was becoming very close to the King.

Mary didn't like that, another Howard close to her father and Lady In Waiting to Anne of Cleves –that only could mean trouble ahead for Anne.

Phillip seeing the worry on her eyes, moved to sit where Elizabeth had formerly sat and patted her on the back. "Mary it is alright. I am sure it is just an infatuation"

Mary shook her head vigorously. Phillip was very naïve to think her father could only be infatuated with this Howard girl. He was not there when Anne Boleyn caught her father by surprise. Seven years he had courted her, seven years he had abstained from other women just to get her. What was her father not capable of for a Howard girl?

"Sweetheart this is your day, it is no time to be tense" He said.

Mary agreed, but she could not help it. From now on she would keep her senses on alert for this Kitty Howard. She should dare not come in between a sweet woman like Anne and her own marriage. She prayed that God would give England another son, only then would father lose interest in Kitty Howard, and only then could Mary's union with Phillip be safe. The only other way they could be safe was for them to produce a child –she mentally added on her list of miracles she asked to God, a child to fill her empty womb.

But Phillip's hand landing on top of hers made her fears disappear.

It will be alright, his chocolate eyes told her as they stared at her ocean blue eyes.

* * *

Several other people, guests at the wedding Ceremony, watched the interaction between their Princess and the German Prince. They had good chemistry they all said, and Chapuys who was among the crowds did not deny this.

His mind however was not convinced, it would never be at this impetuous boy good looks and smile.

Was this the cunning, and intelligent, well read Mary Tudor he witnessed? So easy she had been swayed by his good looks that she believed his act of the good and honest husband?

Nobody was that perfect, much less a boy who had squandered all of his father's money, the pension he would receive from his cousin and her husband would no doubt be a generous one, and if he managed to get the Duchess impregnated before the year's end it would only increase his fortunes.

If he were his Lady he would watch that dowry and not hand over the Administrative duties to her husband.

 _Good smile, good looks that is all Phillip of Bavaria is, another pretty face,_ Chapuys thought - _much less that what she deserves._

If the King would not have been so sober to envy his daughter's betrothal, she would have been married to Dom Luis by now and a finer match would that be than with a mere Duke!

* * *

After the banquet was finished, they walked straight to her chambers –now his too. Her maids helped her undress. She was now in a simple white nightgown, her head more loose.

Phillip came in later, he dismissed her maids, Susan before she left winked at her Mistress, Mary could not help but smirk and playfully say in a low voice "Go"

Phillip was there in a simple nightgown that reached his toes. Mary could not help but laugh at how silly they both looked, but this was a serious matter her mind kept reminding her. This was the day she finally became a woman.

At last they would be alone, out of sight, rather.

When the lights of the candles that hit their faces were turned off, Phillip made the first move reaching up to touch her hair completely loose. "I will honor you forever" He vowed.

She shut her eyes for a moment not knowing what to say or do, and then she glanced back at where the candles were. Their light were turned off, and she felt helpless in the darkness what was she supposed to do next?

What seemed the only thing to answer, she said "And I you, with my life"

Her first experience she never expected it to feel this … awkward. She had expected to feel the sensation of fireworks and the spark of life when Phillip and she came to lie on the bed, but the only thing that she felt when Phillip released her.

"You are so beautiful" he murmured before he kissed her again, and she kissed him back.

She thought she'd had a rough idea of what it meant to consummate the marriage with the person you loved, to have that person enter you … deflower you. It was not the experience of having his manhood inside her that was bothering her, it was that it hurt and that she would have the stain of blood there next to her on their sheets the next morning to remind her of it.

But she did not refuse to let go of him when he kept thrusting, he felt he had a duty to fulfill –she had expressed how much she wanted children –but in this moment it was not what was passing to her mind, she only wanted to feel Phillip's presence, his love inside her.

Since she had trusted him so much, it had not been difficult for them to become man and wife, but she could not help but feel that something had been missing in their first moment together –her first time ever with a man.

 _Stop your worries, you should not be thinking this. It was only your first night, there will be many others to succeed this!_  
There was no doubt in her mind that her conscience spoke the truth. This was only her first night, it was only natural that she felt scared, and scarred but there would be many other nights.  
Phillip's hairs was as messy as hers. She couldn't help but a ran a hand through his hair but the moment she did, he had stirred away.  
She shrugged and turned to the opposite side her back now turned to him.

 _This is life._  She glanced back at Phillip who pulled the covers near him. He seemed to shiver still and he pulled himself closer to her as if her presence was the only thing that could warm not only his heart, but his whole being.

Yet Mary could not help but feel that something –as she woke up the next morning- had been missing from  _that night_.

Everything had been done out of love and perfection, and yet …  _something -_ she thought-  _was missing, even now_.

* * *

**A/N: Just to add some things: What Mary mentions to Chapuys in the first part of this chapter about the dowry and the matter linked to it of the Emperor giving her only twenty thousand ducats to betroth her to Dom Luis, that is actually true, the conversation she tells Chapuys did happen in the summer of 1538. However it played on differently. Let me explain Cromwell ordered Mary to reclaim to the Ambassador why was it the Emperor was not giving her more and Mary did as she was told by Cromwell, witnesses later would report that it was all an act to appear that she was angry at the Ambassador, but in reality she wasn't as she later told him that she understood why her cousin was hesitant to pay the full dowry.**

**Leave a Comment! I want to hear your opinions. I don't mind constructive criticism!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the format that I've chosen for this story. There will be a lot back and firth between third and first point of view. In other stories I just go with one point of view but I found this much easier because it allows readers to get a better insight into the minds of characters and also into the period.


	6. What Wicked Games you Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eustace is forced to visit Mary after she consummates her union with Duke Philip, but she tells him a news that makes him question everything he stands for and what he feels for the former princess of Wales.  
> I recommend listening to 'it's been a while' by staind while reading this.

" _It is very easy to convince yourself that you are in love with someone when you think that he or she is your last hope. Love is very complicated, is a dangerous and wonderful feeling that cannot be meassured. When love happens you don't ask for it, it just happens. The worst mistake you can make besides turning your love to obssesion, is convincing yourself that the person you chose is your love. You can con everyone, including that person but you can never con yourself."_

**~"Angst" by Anonymous**

**~o~**

**1540, July 18th**

**Duke and Duchess of Bavaria's Chambers:**

In the early years of her life she'd had been pushed and used as a tool to forge alliances, but in the end her father had always broken the betrothals because, as much as he wanted alliances to strengthen his Country, like the rest -it seems- of the English he was arrogant and thought that England could do well without any foreign power's help. So her betrothals were always broken.

For years Mary had thought she would be destined to be just that -a tool for her father to use and when she would not longer be of use to him, he would toss her aside and then move to Elizabeth. But, her mind always made her doubt that he would use Elizabeth because she was younger than her and she would never have to see the machinations of her father use her and later disappoint her.  
She would never have to go through that, though Elizabeth was too young she was smart yet her young age saved her from being used ... unlike Mary.

It wasn't that Mary regretted most of her decissions, she regretted her father's decissions not to have her married to some high ranking Prince of Catholic Europe. If only her father had not angered the Emperor she would have been Empress by now, if only her mother had not fought so hard to convince her father to break the betrothal with the Dauphin, she would be the Dauphin's bride by now. And if only her own cousin not angered her father, she would have been Dona Maria de Portugal wife of Dom Luiz of Portugal who was very close to the Portuguese throne.

If only so many what ifs her future would have been brighter, she would not have had to spend four years of soul searching and having to struggle through her father's machinations, and above all she would not have had to struggle with Cromwell who was always watching her back -she suspected thanks to most of the servants at Hundson who had either been paid or been his spies since the beginning.

Her father's madness she believed had been brought by that awful man.

Two years ago she remembered a tiltyard being built on Whitehall. It was used to punish those who angered her father, or his noble subjects. One person there had been hanged; others had been racked to death for petty crimes that went from stealing small purses from their masters to the absurd of running away with their master's toothpicks. Nobles for the first time got to tremble at the King's wrath too, for one Courtier of higher rank exactly two years ago she remembered had gone into an open dispute with another member of higher birth. The King had sentenced him for the offense he had done the higher noble to give up not only the coins he had taken from his "victim" but also to give up his hand. Not only the executioner was busy these days, also the cooks were busy at Whitehall sharpening their knives for their victims' hands.

It was sickening, but that was her father. And yet she always had fought hard to let go of these memories, and when she thought she could give up there was always him, the Ambassador to tell her not to, to never surrender to her emotions. He was always there for her, and the last thing she had said to him was that he was an opportunist; she had accused him of being ungrateful like her cousin.

She hadn't taken it much importance then, but now as she reminiscences back to that time, she had hurt him, not only his pride but something else she wasn't sure exactly what it was, but the hurt look on his eyes replaced by the cold stares he had given her at her wedding with Phillip was enough to make her think now.

Phillip she noticed was a heavy sleeper; the sun had risen on England and set its rays through their window.

All the covers they had on them had not been enough to keep them from the sun hitting them. Mary thought she was imagining things, but when the light hit them, the only one whose the light seemed to focus its shine was on her rather than Phillip. There was no halo on him, or light in his lips. He was touched only by shadows.

Six more minutes passed that for Mary were like six years. She waited for Phillip to wake up. She was at the right side of the bed and he at the left, he slept peacefully and there was still that goofy smile on his lips. He had no worries and no regrets, how she wished she could live like him without worries.

She leaned forward and kissed his lips. He stirred at the kiss and turned away from her, he had rolled back as she had when she had woken up.  
His back was now on her face. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Everything had to be perfect ... everything was perfect -she kept saying to herself repetitively.

Nothing changed as the minutes passed and Phillip was still asleep, she suspected the goofy smile was still on his face. She didn't know how long it passed since she had opened her eyes, but since Phillip had rolled on his back she had counted all the little cracks on their bedchamber ceiling.

Their bed chamber, how good it sounded, not hers anymore but theirs. Theirs, finally she had somebody to share the rest of her life with.

She sighed and began to think back to Chapuys. Why did they have to fight, and most importantly why did he have to fight so hard against this wedding? Chapuys had never intervened with such passion and determination for a betrothal before. But she guessed it was only naturall since Phillip had Lutheran sympathies and her cousin would not look too keenly on that.

As Phillip finally woke up and looked at Mary with loving eyes, she thought that if she had changed her mind very easily to Phillip, if given the chance that Chapuys could get to know him better, her cousin would not be objective anymore to him, and if that were not to happen ... then she would have no choice but choose her husband instead. She had not lied to Chapuys when she told him she appreciated her cousin, he was second in her heart after her father, but she was a married woman now and Chapuys as her cousin the Emperor had to accept that he wasn't head of her family, her father was and she belonged now to Phillip.

Phillip's eyes lit up as he saw Mary's dark blue eyes. They were grey -he had to remind himself but it didn't matter as he touched Mary's cheek.

"What is it? Do I have something on my face" Mary asked him seriously seeing the smirk on his face.

"No, I am just amazed to have woken up with the most beautiful Princess in all the world"

She giggled. "You mean in all of Christendom"

"No I mean all the world Mary" He cried and his lips soon touched hers.

After they parted he smiled once more and she couldn't help but feel his smile contagious. She responded him with another kiss [ but on his cheek] that he also returned.

They dressed up quickly for breakfast. Their first morning together as man and wife, she couldn't have been more happy and so was Phillip who still wore the same contagious grin and occasionally smiled when she looked up to meet his dark emerald eyes.

There was something strange in those eyes, they were not mysterious or undecipherable like the Ambassador, yet they were not the same she had looked on yesterday when they'd consummated their union.

She told herself she was being silly again, this was ridiculous why should she even be worried about what the Ambassador had said or how he stared at her in disapproval. He was only shaken because he had lost a potential ally for his Master, and her cousin just had to accept the inevitable that she was the Duchess of Bavarian and Countess Palatine now and soon she would give the Tudor and Wittelsbach Dynasties more male heirs -she hoped.

* * *

**Ambassador's Chambers**

Today he woke up. A barren life he thought as he reminiscences back at everything that had happened since he had met the Princess, exactly seven years ago.

 _Oh no Duchess now Chapuys don't forget,_ he told himself being sarcastic again.  _I was not in the mood for Court right now, in fact I was not in the mood for anything!_

She had danced with Duke yesterday all night and they had seem happy, very happy. She had only ackknowledged his presence twice, first at the wedding when she returned his cold stare and second at the Wedding banquet at Whitehall when she had begun to dance with the Duke, that time she hadn't returned his cold and uncaring stare, instead she had smiled sardonically at him like she had been mocking him reminding him of who he was and who she was.  
Who he was ... a high ranking Ambassador but a commoner with no Royal blood flowing in his veins. He was very below her, and below every one of the guests at her wedding.  
She was teasing him, and worst was she loved it because this -he suspected- was a revenge for having opposed her marriage to the Duke of Bavaria.

Well, he should not worry about that marriage anymore, it was done and consummated. Just the thought of her having consummated her marriage with that boy -that opportunist made him turn scarlet red with anger. He felt frustrated remembering her sardonic smile.

 _You are pathetic Eustace_  his mind screamed.  _You want what you cannot have, you think she could ever look your way without laughing at your pathetic stare. She has learned to play the game better than you taught her, you became the fool Eustace. You have coned so many people in the past including her, that now your own game has coned you!_

 _"No!"_  he mentally cried back at his conscience. He had not fooled himself, that was impossible.

Eustace was a man trained to hide emotion, to show coldness before any other feeling. He acted on reason not on feelings! How then did his mind claimed he had fallen victim to his feelings?

No, he was going crazy, this was all because he felt he had failed himself and his Master. His Master would be more angry however if he'd found out that his cousin was soon to be pregnant.

Oh! he thought, his Princess and the Duke having children, that would surely set his Master off. He could imagine his anger now, the first to blame would be him for not having convinced her not to marry that Heretic.

To get back what he'd lost, he would return to his duties. Today however he would rest as he felt the pain in his leg increase.

He sat up in his bed. He was in his chemise; he had not taken his boots and the lower half of his clothes. Yesterday he had barged into his room tired and filled with nothing but hatred in his heart for the Duke of Bavaria. Part of him, he felt part of him had died when he had watched his Princess kiss that man.

He preferred not to think about it any longer, but the more these statement became repetitive the more he realized he would never be free from this prison.

* * *

 _"And it's been a while since I can stand on my_ _own two feet again_  
And it's been a while since I could call you  
And everything I can remember ... is fucked up as it all may seem  
The consequences that I've rendered  
I stretch myself beyond my means  
And it's been a while since I can say that I wasn't addicted  
and it's been a while since I can say that I loved as well as you  
It's been a while since I've gone and fucked things up."

_**~It's been a while by Staind** _

* * *

**August 10th.**

**Hampton Court Palace**

The Court had moved to Hampton Court, her father's favorite Palace now.

The day could not have started better as her Physician, Dr. de la Sa confirmed her best suspicions -she was with child.

She intended to tell Phillip, she knew he would be happy to hear this. Unlike other men, Phillip did not care about the gender of the child; all he cared for, he'd said was that their child would be born healthy.

Everything in Phillip made her breath comfortably, he was very protective of her and she thanked him for that but sometimes he could be too overprotective, and she got the feeling that Phillip saw her as nothing more than a naïve child that needed to be protected, yet as a hand fell on her flat stomach and closed her eyes imagining what their child would look like –all her discomforts of Phillip's attitude towards her disappeared.

A knock at her chamber doors woke her up from day dreaming. She looked at Susan who had opened the door. Her figure was blocking the figure from the entrance.

"Susan who is it?" She asked.

She hoped it would be Phillip. She couldn't wait to see the smile on his face when she would tell him that he was going to be a father.

Her face however turned serious when Susan moved aside and she saw  **him** , the Imperial Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys.

 _What is he doing here?_  She thought. They had not seen each other in nearly a month. She had even thought that after their last conversation he would never want to speak with her again, clearly she was wrong for the serious look on his face she judged he had something important to tell her. No doubt –it would have to do with her cousin.

"Eustace Chapuys milady" Said Susan a little too late both she and Mary realized.

Chapuys did not wait for Mary to let him in, like it was his own chambers he walked right in.

Mary saw no reason in telling Susan she could retire for the day, she clearly got the message as she exited the chamber shutting the door behind her.

"Excellency" She greeted him. "Please sit" She said.

* * *

 _Please sit_  –his Lady now Duchess had said and he obliged more out of need than to please her. He desperately needed to sit.

He still did not know what he was doing here. What the Emperor had told him to tell his cousin was a simple message, very simple indeed that he could have send Fleming or Raphael or any other of his man servants to deliver it to the Duchess.

No, he had to send it himself, out of some strange reason he did not understand he thought it would be better if he delivered to her in person.

What did he think to accomplish by this? –To regain her trust? That had been lost the moment he had opposed the marriage openly with her and bluntly said that it would be the mistake of her life. He still thought that it was the mistake of her life.

"Your Grace" He said, not Your Highness but Your Grace as it was her title.

He could tell there was discomfort in her face for being addressed so coldly by a former friend.

She had to get used to it, after all it was her decision to marry the Duke, her decision to have a new title, she should face the consequences. However this didn't make his situation any better as she stared directly into her dark grey eyes.

"What brings you here?" She said in an equally cold tone.

"The Emperor has sent me a letter addressed to you however he thought it would be better if I were to deliver it to you."

"And what does my cousin say now? I hope it is good news"

He was surprised by how her tone changed when he mentioned her cousin, his Master the Emperor. Her eyes had lit up with expectation.

Two years ago after Cromwell had nearly convinced her that he was to blame for the broken betrothal with Dom Luis of Portugal, she had told Eustace that the only thing that mattered to her, that could even rival her father's love was her cousin's approval.

How innocent and naïve his Lady was. Did she not see it now? He had advocated for her plight, he had written every day to the Emperor telling him he could use her, he had spoken to him about her as nothing more than a tool and later he turned her into a victim so his Master could be convinced that her plight was worht fighting for. Had it not been for his letters or his cold language used on all the letters, the Emperor would have never been convinced that his cousin was what he now called a worthy investment.

Yes he was not innocent, he would be a liar if he said he was, but he had risked his life and his sanity for this woman, for his Lady, for his Princess and even now that she was farther from his reach or his cousin's he still was willing to play the part of intermediate for his Master and for her.

Yet, he realized, it was her cousin she held dear, second to her heart after her father and husband. To her he was just another subject, a commoner ... nothing else.

He forced a smile through his closed lips; however his teeth were pressed against one another.

"More than that the Emperor finally wishes to congratulate you on your marriage and he sends you his blessings" This was not a lie, the Emperor had sent blessing to his cousin the now Duchess of Bavaria, however Eustace left out the part in where the Emperor told Eustace that if the marriage were to be a failure or the Duke proved impotent, than arrangement could be made for an Imperial Alliance. Again the Princess would serve as a tool for him and her father.

He did not think of the Princess as a tool, not anymore but he could not help but obey to his Master's commands as much as it pained him to do when those commands had to do with his fair Lady.

* * *

Mary could not believe what she was hearing. At last her cousin had accepted her union with Philip.

She could have smirked, but instead she showed him a wide grin that soon disappeared as she saw him look away, disappointment however visible in his features.

"Excellency?" She asked him. "What is wrong?"

* * *

_What is wrong? I will tell you what is wrong, you married to the Duke of Bavaria Princess. You throwing your life away, and the whole Kingdom of your Father that you could have restored if only you would have been more patient!_

"Nothing" He said turning back to face her. "Nothing Your Grace, nothing" He repeated but she wasn't convinced.  
Something was wrong, and she was going to find out what.

Mary opened her mouth to speak but before words could come out of it her door was opened and in came Phillip.

"Mary  **sweetheart** …" He stopped when he saw his wife sitting next to the Imperial Ambassador Chapuys.

He was confused as what the man was doing here, Mary saw through his expression. Mary stood up and walked up to him kissing him quickly on the lips.

"Phillip" she said softly as she looked back at the Ambassador's eyes, she looked at them quickly before she turned to meet her husband's dark emerald eyes. If she had looked at them longer she would have been able to see through them the pain and destruction that she was causing him standing so close to Phillip and speaking at him tenderly.

"He has great news to tell us, is about my cousin, he has finally accepted our marriage" She declared waiting for him to respond.

* * *

The kiss she gave the Duke of Bavaria was tender and when she returned his affection when she spoke to him, explaining him that the Ambassador was here to tell  _them_  [not  _me_ , but she used the word  _us,_  since she married that impoverished Duke everything became them instead of her, it was like the smart, and independent Lady he had known had flown out of the window] great news from her cousin -the Emperor.

"Really?" He asked his gaze falling unto the Ambassador who was still seated.

Chapuys avoided eye contact at all costs with the young Dukeof Bavaria, he feared that if he looked up at him the only thing the young man would see was the deep hatred burning in them because of him.

"Yes" Chapuys responded not looking into his eyes.

He stood up quickly after he answered the young Duke.  
The air around the room had become hot as the environment since the Duke had entered the room.

After he stood up, ignoring the pain from his leg he told the Duke "If you will excuse me Your Grace, I have duties to attend to" He said in his best formal tone. This was the first time he had spoke to the Duke, and he was surprised at how young and how naïve this man looked. Would he really be a good husband, what his Princess expected to find in a spouse? He doubted it, but [a part in his mind told him] at least she would make him happy, like she would make any man happy.

And that is where the cause for his hatred for the young man came from. No, it was not because he considered him below the Princess who was the daughter of Kings and granddaughter of the Great Catholic King, nor it was because he was a Lutheran [though that also could count] and he could poison his Princess' mind. No, all those reasons that Chapuys told himself every day to justify his hatred for the Duke of Bavara could have made sense, but alas they were not the real reason behind his hatred and jealousy.  
The Duke had won his Princess' heart and what added more fire to the hatred he felt towards the man was that he loved her and respected her, he was everything she had dreamed of.

_Stop it! You are a disgusting old man, how different will you be if you were to make her fall into your arms than the King of England?_

He mentally laughed at that.

How different he was from the King of England really? The King of England who had married Anne of Cleves a woman four years older than his eldest daughter! How much different he was indeed from him?

Was he that desperate for a woman's touch? If he was, he had chosen the wrong woman alright to fall in love with …

In love? … No, he could not! -They … but  **he ... had**.

 _I have fallen_  –he told himself-  _for the Princess, a woman who is now completely out of my reach._

And he would realize she would be more out of his reach as Phillip held out his hand and Chapuys having no choice shook it.

Phillip flinched at the Ambassador's grasp.

"Strong grasp there Excellency. Umm, can I have my hand back I need it to write too" Philip said sheepishly.

Chapuys let go of his hand. Phillip's hand was held by Mary who frowned as she met the Ambassador's eyes. Chapuys did not return the glare or the frown, he felt he had done nothing wrong.

"Mary has told me a lot about you."

_I am sure she has._

"Tell me Excellency any jealous men around Court that I need to worry about?" He asked curiously attempting to humor him.

Chapuys smirked and looking straight into the Duke's emerald eyes for the first time he said "Oh you have no idea" and then he turned to leave.

* * *

_How dare he barge into my rooms like they were his own, and squeeze Phillip's hand like this, treating him like he was no one?_

" _Oh you have no idea"_  She'd heard him say before he turned his back on them and walked to the door.

Before he touched the door knob she turned to Phillip who was watching the Ambassador with a quizzical look on his eyes, his eyebrows still arched.

"Dr. de la Sa came today and he gave me great news …" The Ambassador suddenly stopped, Mary noticed as she looked behind Phillip's shoulder. She had put herself in front of Phillip. She wanted to see his expression and her husband's.

For some reason Mary cared more for the reaction she would get from Chapuys than from her husband.

Was it revenge? Or was it true what they said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?

Slowly she watched the events unfold. First Phillip looking at her, his eyebrows no longer arched, they were raised and his eyes became expectant as he neared her and they were now close enough to kiss.  
Then there was Chapuys, His Excellency she thought, as he stopped in his tracks and tempted by curiosity he turned he began to turn to face her eyes.

Phillip meanwhile thought that her eyes were focused on him, but they were focused on the Ambassador.

Before Phillip got to ask the question, she answered him –"I am with child"

The Ambassador on the moment she'd said aloud to Phillip that she was with child had aged significantly as bags suddenly appeared under his eyes. No longer a frown on his face, it twisted into shock that soon turned to bitterness as he gave her one last glance at her before he walked away.

 


	7. Shades of Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary finds Eustace in his chambers but let's say he catches him at a bad time, but she's not sorry at all for what she sees. Afterwards, she prepares to tell him why she chose Philip.

_"I could take every little word she said  
throw it in her face!  
Would she even care?  
I still remember when she looked on me  
the frown upon her face trying to be sincere  
_ _I gathered all those littl things she said kept them close to me_  
trying to make this real  
this clouds will always hover over me"  
 **~Suffocate by Cold**

* * *

**1540, August 10th**

**Hampton Court Palace,**

**Ambassador's Chambers:**

"Not now!" He said to Raphael as he entered his Chambers. Fleming looked at Raphael quizically and he stepped in front of his Master asking if everything was alright. Chapuys walked past him too and cried to all the servants in his room, and that went for Raphael and Fleming too "Let me be take the day off, don't worry you will still be paid!" They didn't need to be told twice, everyone except for the usual pair of Raphael and Fleming, left the room in an instant. They didn't care if their Master was grumpy or not, they would get paid otherwise for doing nothing and having their leissure time away from their Master's foul mood.

Fleming looked at Raphael unsure what to make of this situation. They had never heard their Master address the servants that way.

Raphael merely shrugged his shoulders, he was unaware of what had ailed his Master but he told Raphael that the longer they stayed in the living room waiting for their Master to come from his Bed chamber, the only thing they would acheive is getting His Excellency in a more foul mood. None wanted to see Chapuys in a more foul mood than the one they'd already witnessed, so instead they decided to join the others and leave to their separated rooms.

* * *

Chapuys once inside his bedroom he paced back and forward waiting for everyone outside his bedchamber to leave. He could hear all of them in footstall hurry out of his Chambers.

 _Good_  Eustace thought, yet he felt that not all of them were gone. As he put his ears on his bedroom's door, he could hear Fleming and his Spanish man servant Raphael still whispering.

 _God that man Fleming_  Chapuys thought angry.  _Did his meddlesome ways knew no bounds?_

 _Obviously they do not_  -Chapuys sighed relieved when he heard them leaving the door being shut behind them.

Now that was better, the only thing Fleming had to do was listen to him, only once he would ask for things to go  **His**  way!

Damn it! All of England and the sun that still shine bright above this Island, damn it all!

Why was he even here? He hated the people, he hated the food, he hated being so close to the ports since just the sight of the sea still made him sick. He couldn't begin to think of all the trips he had been where he had not [miraculous] thrown up. He was not a sailor, he was a diplomat. Couldn't man just invent something that didn't have to do with water? If men were said to be so smart -surely they could invent roads or something that didn't have to do with traveling by sea.

Speaking of the devil, he thought, he walked to the window where just as he was thinking of the sun -he was forced to let its intense rays enter his room. It was terribly hot, it had not rained for more than five weeks, and to top all the hell that he felt in this Island, the King had not deterred from his madness to pursue both Heretics and Catholics. Five Hundred now or so the count was who had died -of both faiths!

It was ridiculous! And worst of all was that his Lady, his Princess who now styled herself as Duchess no longer seemed to give care about the fate of those who followed the true Faith.

The world had gone mad, and so did his Princess since she married that man!

 _Heretic!_  Chapuys cursed. In his blind rage he didn't feel his leg cursed with gout being hit with the foot of his bed as he stumbled on it. His hatred was fueling his rage and that blocked all the physical pain he could have felt because of his gout and where he hit his leg with hard wood.

He cursed Phillip but soon as his curses and his mental cries died down he realized that all this time he was not cursing Phillip, he was cursing himself for failing not his master, but his Lady and Princess -if he had fought harder, if he had replied more desperately, exagerated things a bit his Master would have paid all the dowry two summers ago for her betrothal with Dom Luiz de Portugal. She would be a married woman, far from his reach yes, but she would be married with a man befitting her rank, a man he was sure who would take away from all this damned place!

He didn't realize when it was but when he opened his eyes after he stopped cursing himself -he found himself on his knees against his bed and for the first time since he arrived to his Chambers, he felt the pain in his leg return and it was so excruciating that he found himself screaming and no longer able to put up a fight against his gout he let darkness take him.

* * *

**August 24th.**

**The Duchess of Bavaria's Bedchamber**

Mary had decided that two weeks after her last confrontation with the Ambassador with she would pay him a visit. She would show herself to his doorstep as unexpectedly as he had done with her.  
Mary told herelf repetitively that it would only be based only on pure interest, she had to know after all what her cousin had to say of her pregnancy.  _Surely_  she thought,  _His Excellency must have already told him._ **His**  opinions is of high value like my father's.

 _Who?_  Her conscience taunted.

She was sick and tired of playing these games with her mind, it was always who and why? Mary meant the Emperor of course! -Her cousin, who else? But that would not quiet her conscience from constantly asking.

She looked at her vanity. She had seldom done that before. She didn't like to loo at her vanity, she considered it a waste of time when there were other great things she considered she could do like reading a book or spending time with her husband -Phillip , her best friend Susan or one of her personal favorites -spending time with her sister Elizabeth. The latter had been very enthusiastic when her Chambers were moved next to Phillip and Mary's. She was very fond of them, especially witb Phillip, she considered him like a big brother and Phillip considered her like the sister he always wished he could have.  
Mary was happy whenever she saw both of them play together cards. She hardly approved of Elizabeth learning to play cards but Phillip had jested saying it was alright, she was daughter of the King after all and she would soon have to learn the games played at Court. Mary guessed then that it was alright, as long as she did it with her or with Phillip and no one else who could take advantage of an innocent soul like her.

When she saw her reflection on her mirror, the woman staring back at her was one who no longer looked twenty four but rather younger. Prengnacy usually had an odd effect on women making them look tired, forlorn and more haggard. On Mary it was all the contrary, she was only a month along and already her skin had acquired color, for example her cheeks were no longer pale and became rosier, and her figure also was gaining on weight. She could feel that her pregnancy was changing her for the better.

She ran a hand through her hair as she saw some hairs loose in front of where her low French hood rested. This French hood she had worn was different than all the rest. Normally she would wear high French Hoods that made her look like she had a golden halo rested on her head. This was different, it was still gold however as a gift from the Queen, Anne of Cleves, it was smaller in size yet more befitting for a married woman. On top of the hood rested small pearls. On Mary's neck she had the same pearl necklace she had always worn since the late Jane Seymour's reign. It was the same necklace that had adorned her neck in the miniature made of her exactly two years ago. It was taken from her after Cromwell had said it would be a punishment because of aiding known catholic fugitives at Hundson. This was a lie of course, Mary had not aided fugitives, on the contrary she had given aid to homeless children and men and women who had been left without a home or shelter after all the abbeys and nunneries had closed down. But Cromwell didn't care, since then Mary's miniature had been taken away and so her liberty to make her House a shelter for the homeless souls near London.

She decided not to think of it anymore. Instead she focused on this necklace. As the small golden French Hood with pearls on top, it matched her purple gown which had golden balls on her square neck. The necklace had been a gift from her late stepmother, the only thing she had of her as the rosary that had belonged to her mother, also given to her by Jane Seymour seconds after she had gone in labor.

Mary straightened herself and then her necklace. She had to look presentable, she thought, even if it was for His Excellency.

"Susan I am going out" She told her best friend who was sitting on the green sofa near to the stone made fireplace.

She stood up from the sofa and walked to Mary "Where might I inquire Mary?" She asked in a tone more serious than usual.

 _Could she know?_  Thought Mary.  _Of course she does, she knows you better than yourself._

"Nowhere in particular I am just going for a stroll. I need to sort some things out" She said and before Susan could object Mary was already out the door.

* * *

**Ambassador's Chambers:**

Chapuys had not told anyone, including the Physician nor his two man servants Raphael and Fleming that he had fallen unconscious to the excruciating pain in his leg that had taken him by surprise two weeks ago.

He didn't want to appear weak, and he was still adamant to being placed with a cain. It was not fair, he could walk without the need of cane or stick, surely what had happened had only been the result of his nerves!

Oh what a fool he was to have acted on his feelings, this had never happened to him before, why was it happening to him now?

The longer he questioned himself, the more his migraine increased. He walked to his desk. He should write to the Emperor now. His servants were not here with him today as they had not been two weeks ago on that day when they had also been dismissed.

In his plain chemise and on loose black pants with black slippers he walked to his desk and made himself comfortable in his arm chair. He dipped the pen in ink, but just like before [when the Princess had married the Duke of Bavaria] he did not know where to begin. He had told the Emperor that the Duchess was pregnant and that her child was scheduled to be born around mid April during Spring. No better time for a child blessed with a great mother like the Duchess to be born, he thought solemnly as he closed his eyes imagining the child of his Lady.

Whatever the child was, boy or girl if he or she was anything like its mother then great things would be expected from it -he hoped.

* * *

Mary reached His Excellency's Chambers. She was surprised when she knocked several times and she received no answer. She tried again but there was no response.

Nothing.

There was no one home, she thought wryly. She was about to leave when she decided to try once more and this time her hand sliding close to where the door knob was, when she knocked her hand had hit that door knob and she heard the door cracking and slowly it became open.

 _Strange,_ she thought. _His Excellency would never leave his rooms unguarded._

It was none of her business to inspect the Ambassador's rooms, but she could not help but let her curioisty take the best of her. It would be only one peek, besides she couldn't leave his rooms unattended. The way things were going around in the Country, lately even in Hampton there had been missing things from the Couriter's Chambers. She didn't want anyone stealing from the Ambassador, which his room was probably to be a high target since he was one of the more cunning politicians in father's Court.

Thinking back to the Ambassador she found herself comparing him with Marillac, for some reason she could not help it. Marillac had been in the Country for two years, and he was mildly as crude or sarcastic as Chapuys. He was less rough, but more direct but he lacked His Excellency's great intellect.

Also there was another thing that Marillac lacked -devotion. While to some Chapuys' devotion was something that irritated, to Mary it was something that made her admire and respect him even more.

She looked puzzled as she saw that the entrance chamber was completely deserted. She wondered why the Ambassador had deserted his rooms and not left everyone behind to take care of the mess. There were papers everywhere, it was like he had not been here in days, the room was not cleaned and now she did not only mean the papers thrown all over the place, but also the cushions of the two sofas on each side of the room. She sighed. She could not understand why His Excellency could be so stuborn? Couldn't he just have told one of his man servants to clean up or order the room be cleaned up by the others at his service? Why was he acting this way? -She hardly knew him in this conduct.

She lifted the cushions and doing the job he should have told his servants to do, she went and put them on the sofas. When she was finished she arranged all the papers, they were not in order she realized but she put them on the table on the sofa on the far right of the room. The room looked now ... decent.

Would his bed chamber be just as bad? She wondered.

She moved to his bedroom's door. As usual she didn't bother to check because she heard no sounds coming from the other end, and unlike before she didn't bother to know.

Her surprise was evident when she opened the door. It was not that the door was not locked, but rather that she found the Ambassador inside in plain chemise and a loose set of black pants and black slipper. She could feel herself turning red. The Ambassador paid no attention to her presence as his attentions were focused on the contents on the letter he had just finished written to his Master.

She grabbed the door knob and before he could take notice of her presence, she closed the door as silent as she could however as the door was halfway closed it made a screeching sound that made Chapuys look up and quickly he asked "Who is there? I told you Fleming not to bother me!"

Mary did not know what to do. She could just close the door and make a run for it. He would not catch up with her. His leg would keep him from reaching her on time, yet something kept her from running and not realizing that it was too late to run she turned back to face the door and slowly she heard the door be pushed by Chapuys.

* * *

Chapuys had not been prepared to see the Duchess in plain sight, he could not believe he was staring at her in the new purple gown and the french hood that he suspected were all presents from the Queen, the Lady Anne of Cleves and then there was her necklace, his gaze fell on it. It was the same pearl necklace that she had worn since Jane Seymour, more than four years ago.

He regained sense of who she was, Duchess of Bavarian and Princess Mary and looking at himself he felt himself grow red with embarssment as he was in a plain chemise and black loose pant and slippers. This was no way to greet her.

"Milady ... I-You Grace" He was at a loss of words.

* * *

He was bewildered and unhappy at being seen this way. She was not any better.

Mary felt very odd to be stuck in the same situation. Though she had her formal clothing with her, she wasn't expecting to see him this way, she had only seen one man like this -Phillip.

She didn't know what she should say.

Just go, her mind whispered. But she felt paralyzed by the same shame that had taken possesion of the Ambassador's body.

Finally she seemed to found courage as she heard herself say on impulse "I -I saw the door was opened and knocked several times ... nobody answer so I figure -I would see if ... if there was somebody here" She wasn't sure where she was getting with this but it was the best she could come with.

His face still puckered as he looked directly into Mary's eyes. She felt his eyes penetrate the barriers where her soul was kept and she could feel his presence in the depts of it. He had much practice, she figured reading through other people's eyes. She was no different than all the others.

"I told my servants they would be dismissed"

He sounded calmer.

But his eyes were still fixated to dark grey orbs. She wanted to look away but she found she couldn't.

"Well then -I am ... came here to ..." What had she come here for? She had seemed to forget but as Chapuys finally looked away and his gaze turned to the desk behind him where the fresh parchment he had been writing on earlier lay, it suddenly came back to Mary.  
"I came here to inspect on my cousin. I want to know what he thinkgs of my pregnancy" She said in a more determined voice.

Chapuys back to her. "Yes ... he uh- expresses his best wishes" he said too quickly not convincing her. He cleared his throat louder this time and taking the door knob with his left hand again he said "Pr-Lad-Your Grace I mean ... if you could let me change I can tell you all about the Emperor and what he told me to inform you, please...  
"please" he repeated more demanding this time "if you could give me some privacy to change?"

Mary noded "Of course. I will be waiting for you in my Chambers" She said very quickly and before he closed his Bed chamber door she ran out of the room as fast as she could. She could still feel her cheeks red. What a fool she had made herself in front of the Ambassador?

* * *

" _Beauty is in the eye of the beholder but so is love and when we create the illusion of love you will see that later it will turn to something dangerous for our partner -obssesion."_

**~"From love to lust" by Anonymous**

* * *

Stupid, stupid, stupid she kept telling herself as she finally reached her Chambers. She went to the sofa where Susan no longer was. She leaned on the soft cushions of her sofa and took a deep breath.  
If anyone else had seen them they would have thought the worse, not only her she could have gotten him in trouble! What was she thinking going into a man's room without permssion?  
Yet, if she hadn't gone his room would still be battlefield. Like it or not, she thought to the Ambassador, she had helped him make his room more decent than the mess she had witnessed when she'd entered. She realized she had never been in the Ambassador's aparment before. It was not as spacious as her Chambers, but it was cozy, in fact the cushions in her sofa were not as soft or warm like his. She had seen his Bed chaber for a short while too. It was smaller than hers and Phillip's but unlike hers, Chapuys at least had a desk while the only thing she had was a small table that its only purpose was to put candles that would be her only comfort while waiting for Phillip at night.

She envied that advantage that Chapuys had, a desk where he could writer freely while she had to go to the living room everytime she wanted to.

Coming back to her small table in their bed chamber, she thought of Phillip's late nights when he would come exhausted to Bed. Since Phillip had arrived he had made a friendship, that had been only growing wth each passing day between, between Cranmer and other Heretic sympathizers. She had to admit she didn't like any of it, but she could hardly say anything to express her dislike for having him surrounded of those Heretics, most of which had been, and she still suspected, were her enemies.

Marriage had changed Phillip as much as pregnancy was changing her. He was no longer the vaguely timid boy when he first visited England in Jaunary, this time he came back as a man determined to love her and cherish her as his husband, now that she was carrying the child she hoped he would come to bed earlier but it was never so. She would wait for long hours until he would come. Phillip was a man of his word, an honorable man she believed. The reason for his silence she could not be sure; but she began to suspect that he was becoming too close to Cromwell and Cranmer for her own liking.  
She had seen them at Court talking to each other, and she was alarmed because Phillip was not a man of many words. When someone spoke to him he would give a quick reply and then make his way back to her, with the Archbishop however, he was spending more time discussing whatever it was she did not know -but she intended to find out.


	8. Killing me Softly

" _Long lost words whisper slowly to me  
Still can't find what keeps me here_

_When all this time I've been so hollow… inside_

_Watching me, wanting me,  
I can feel you pull me down  
Fearing you, loving you  
I won't let you pull me down_ _"_

_Haunting you, I can smell you_   
_Alive_   
_Your heart pounding in my head"_

**Haunted by Evanescence**

* * *

He could not believe his Lady had seen him in his trousers and his chemise. It was embarrassing, however for the Duchess to barge into his rooms like that it had been very uncalled for, and un-Lady-like behavior coming from the daughter of the Queen of England and granddaughter of the King and Queen of Spain, Fernando of Aragon and Isabel of Castilla.

Chapuys was disappointed after he dressed up **completely** and went to the Duchess' chambers as he'd promised. [He had promised to himself that he would no longer call her Princess or milady, but Your Grace and think of her as Duchess, for that was what she had become when she'd married the impoverished Duke]. He was received with a cool reception by the Duchess of Bavaria. He learned to hide his feelings and the pain that had gripped his leg once more when she invited him to sit down next to her by the fire place.

How he dreaded that arm chair. It was the same chair where every time he sat, every time he came here since she'd married the Duke of Bavaria, their discussions would always turn to conflict. She didn't realize how hurtful or spiteful she could be. She'd accuse him of being an opportunist, and uncaring for her.  
He was not a Saint, she had been right. He was an opportunist he had done things in his life, the kind of things that should haunt a man while he sleep, however he was never haunted by the ghosts of those people or by his actions. -He had learned to cope with them a long time ago.  
He had some instincts left in him; he was not completely heartless as his Lady had accused him off before her wedding Ceremony. There was something left in Eustace that still made him feel human at times.

That something was nagging him to swallow him pride for the Duchess, the Princess he had once fought heaven, hell and Earth to have her restored to her father's Court.

His heart was frozen over however when he looked at the former Princess who in turn gave him one of the coldest looks he had seen of her to date.

So he forgot his pain and focused on her instead, on her cold glare but when he locked eyes with her he realized it wasn't an air of coldness that had passed through her eyes, it was concern … pity to have seem flinch when the gout stroke his leg.

* * *

She wanted to ask His Excellency how he'd felt, but that thought was turned down when he turned to glare at her, there was nothing in his eyes but coldness. She didn't let herself be affected by it, instead -she looked away from his gaze.

Mary didn't see him flinching, when to his dismay she had looked away.

A hand passed through his hair she saw when she turned to see him again. She didn't lock eyes with him this time; she merely looked at him without paying any attention to his glares.

Her great desire, unknown to him, was to placate her concern for him. She didn't feel pity or sorrow for what was going on around his mind, because what she thought she knew was completely wrong.  
She thought him to be angry because of a failed alliance with Dom Luis, she didn't realize that there was more to it than that in his eyes –and the pain that he was feeling now, not in his leg, but in his chest as he felt the air around hotter.

Mary learned from experience not to show her emotion, but like many times with the Ambassador she had often failed when he was next to her like now. They were very close and she didn't know why it was that she'd asked him to sit next to her. Why now? –after that fiasco in his room where she thought it to be deserted, just thinking about it made her turn red again.

While trying to make herself appear non-caring she noticed she had failed miserably when Chapuys smirked at her.

"Is something funny Excellency?" She asked in a neutral tone arching her eye brows in confusion.

* * *

He shook his head _, no on the contrary –nothing is wrong except you are still an amateur at hiding your emotions Duchess._

* * *

She didn't like the way he was looking at her, and the feeling was mutual for it was making both of them very uncomfortable, yet unlike the Duchess of Bavaria, the Imperial Ambassador did not showed his discomfort he barely masked with amusement like he had done other times, not just for her but for everyone including the King of England.

"I believe that you are worried" He said nonchalantly.

Her head tilted slightly to the left, her eyebrows became more [if that was even possible –thought Chapuys] arched.

"What do you mean?" She asked, as much to direct her own thoughts away from his spying glare.

"It is difficult to know what you were thinking when Your Grace marched into my room without knocking"

He was cut off by Mary who indignantly she stood from her chair answering him "I did knock at your door more than twice"

"Then why pray tell Your Grace I did not hear it?"

He kept calling her Your Grace, and it was done without respect, without dignity, every time he said Your Grace there was a smirk on his face and an thorough glare that she wasn't sure anymore whether it was coldness or annoyance.

Annoyance at what? She thought, _it should be me who is annoyed, I am a Princess now Duchess of Bavaria how can he question me like that?_  
 _I did wrong going to his Chambers, this is what happens when I care –lesson number one that he always taught me, never let your feelings interfere with your life, they will break you down. No truer words have ever been spoken_ –she realized.

* * *

Recently Eustace had gotten over his anger at Her Grace's reluctance to no longer need his advice. He came to terms that she was now a married woman, and being influenced by a young Duke who had nothing better in his mind but leave off his wife's money. How different was him than all the vultures in the Tudor Court? Yet he had put all that past him after he had fallen ill again because of his gout. He had told no one about it, the only people that knew were him and the Lord.  
For the first time in his life he did what he thought he would never do, he succumbed to Heresy confessing himself to the Lord instead of a Priest. He felt unworthy to do it himself, join his hands in prayer and ask his Lord for absolution. Men were not born to do that, men needed guidance they needed their Lord. He had taken Holy Orders but he had abandoned them because he couldn't keep up with how the world was changing and well after Luther he found his calling in Politics. Stopping his devils from influencing innocent minds became his priority.  
He felt more comfortable in Politics also.  
He had his true calling there, he could defend the Church while also his Country and stay loyal to his Empire, yet the things he'd done –he realized he lied when he looked into those dark grey eyes when he'd tell himself that he wasn't bothered by the images of all those dead men that he had condemned.

He hadn't pulled the trigger or let the axe fall on their heads, but he loaded the gun so to speak and gave the King enough reason to execute them

With Brereton it had certainly been so, he had trusted too much [a great mistake of his] in that devout soul. He had grabbed him, twisted his mind, gave him enough motivation, trained him to hate the whore and kill her. Yet Brereton it seemed still had a conscience. When the Harlot fell to free himself off suspicion he had embarked Brereton as one more of her lovers. Like most of the political tools he had used in the past, he was no longer needed; he was expendable just like Eustace.

What Her Grace did not understand was that men like Eustace were not paid to be perfect, to be nice or to show emotion; the world she still didn't realize because she was very naïve was not nice. It was cold and cruel, he had seen much of it during his travels to Antwerp, his return during his long absence a year ago to Annency and finally to the Imperial Court where he had began to taste the corruption and learned that rules in a world gone mad by tyrants were worth nothing.

He was a hypocrite, an evil if that was what she thought of him now, but he was a necessary evil.

The world –the common people that is- did not ask for men like him, but Rulers did because they needed him. Because Rulers were men higher than everyone else, they were the people that were separated from the normal population, including the nobles. They were chosen by God, anointed by the Lord's servants. By the grace of God … they said, nothing they did could be judged except for the Pope or as the Heretics believed it –by God himself. If something was wrong in their Country they blamed their subjects, usually their advisors. These would be put to death because they had failed not only their Country, but also their King, God's chosen one.

Tonight when they'd seen each other he had realized that if there was one mistake God had done in its creation had been the past Princess. She was born to greatness yet destined by God's "apparent" choice in Ruler, Henry VIII, to be nothing more than the Consort of an impoverished and opportunistic Duke of a German territory that though one of the biggest, was not one to rival the great Catholic Countries of France, the Holly Roman Empire territories or even Portugal for that matter.

His past Princess had always been curious, intelligent, witty and cunning yet she had one weakness: love. She let love get in the way of her ambitions and that he had told her once would destroy her, yet he was disappointed to see that it hadn't so far.

What was going on with him? He should be proud that she wasn't falling prey to the Duke's ideas, to the Duke's Heresy yet he couldn't. There was no way that Chapuys could be proud of her when she was still married to the Duke of Bavaria, a Heretic who would only give England more Heretics, and they would come from a perfect devout woman's womb –he thought grimly his gaze falling on the Duchess' flat stomach.

In eight more months or less she would give birth to a grandson or granddaughter, but heir nonetheless to Bavaria and maybe one day [if the Queen failed [hopefully] to give the King and England a Duke of York] of England.

The thought alone should make him happy, but once more he couldn't be happy for that. The child would be a Heretic and she … she would have no choice but give the child off to tutors whom he was sure they would be handpicked by that man and by the King's secretary Cromwell.

After seven long years of facing Cromwell, the man had finally ousted Eustace. Alas, this world was full of surprises and injustices –but like his first Master the Duke of Savoy Charles III once told him _"Life is unfair Eustace, get used to it"_

 

* * *

 

Mary did not like how he was addressing her with that crude and sarcastic tone. She knew what to expect of him, but he had always treated her kindness, why did he have to continue to be so cold towards her?

She had chosen love over ambition, so? That did not mean that she had abandoned her ambition and her hopes that she could be restored to the line of succession.

He had become important through his aid in her years of hardship she had experienced with the Harlot, at the service of her sister when she had been called Princess of Wales. He had continued to be with her ever after the Harlot's death, even when he left her to be with the Emperor for a year he had first come to her instead of reporting to her father.

He was a man who would regard his duty to the Emperor, her cousin and perhaps to her as a serious matter. It was God's will he believed that she should rule England, and he was doing everything to keep it that way even now when they were at odd with each other –he still wanted to see her become Queen someday.

Mary really believed that Chapuys was a man who put duty first, and that in spite of their apparent lack of trust since she'd chosen Phillip over his Master's advice, he would still continue to fight for her rights for the Crown of England.

She was hopeful, and she didn't show it. Instead she had the same glare, cold and her face expressionless.

The situation in the room became worse when she decided after a long pause to respond him  
–"Whatever it is you have to say about my cousin **your Master** say it now or hold your peace" she said harshly quickly changing subjects to get their minds off the unpleasant encounter earlier.

Eustace seemed to accept her change of attitude, his former Princess was finally thinking back to important matters, and spoken –he thought- with the ego of a King, not a Queen, Princess or Consort that she was brought to be now by her marriage with the Duke of Bavaria, but like a true King.

He had to admit defeat to the French Ambassador's last statement about the former Princess. -She was a truly woman with the heart and spirit of a King, and if she could have been given the chance to rule under the misfortune of her father's death [though that misfortune would be only to his "loved ones" people Eustace considered he did not deserve to have close by like his daughter], he believed she would have made a better ruler than him. A better England this would have been, away from the clutches of the Devil.

When the King had turned his attentions to the Harlot, the Marques of Pembroke, a title he had bestowed on her only to clear her doubts about the validity of her noble status. She was certainly noble through her mother's side and in England a place where a woman could not take the throne for herself [which had been the problem with his former Princess] or have anything that she could call her own, her promotion from commoner to noble had been a great achievement. People were enchanted by the tale of the King marrying a commoner, if that was possible than there would be no barriers the people, especially those who had nothing believed. But soon they found out, that the commoners who had risen to the top thanks to the Harlot's temporal grasp of His Majesty, had been high commoners as he'd like to call them –merchants and impoverished nobles, nothing more, nothing else. The people became more forgotten and women's right pushed backwards after the Harlot became "Queen".

Katherine of Aragon must be turning and tossing in her tomb he thought, to see what her beloved adopted Country had become after the Harlot's death.

"The Emperor tells me that he is pleased for your pregnancy, and that he wishes that once the child is born, to please your father it would be wise to name him after him" He said, patient.

She nodded. She was still standing while His Excellency remained in his seat passive looking like there had been no angry outburst from her.

"That is reasonable" She said. Eustace nodded he gripped the arm chair as he was about to stand up however he was stopped by her voice as it changed tones –"But Phillip and I have discussed that we want the child to be named after him, if it is a boy if it is a girl it will be named Katherine"

"That is very unwise" Chapuys said his tone becoming more serious.  
"If the Queen were to have a son than you would be restored if you are, behind the Duke of York, but if she would not t-"

"What are you implying?" Her tone was sharp as was her gaze when it finally focused on his eyes and finally she saw what they held –ambition. After all these weeks at odds with each other, he still was concerned for her. -He wanted to see her reinstated. He would not rest until she would be.

"I am simply saying that if the Queen bore a Princess since she would not be an anointed Queen, your father wants a Prince after all not a Princess. You could be restored, though some would still argue your legitimacy, your father would take into consideration that your mother was an anointed Queen, that puts you even above your brother Prince Edward whose mother was not and he has not yet been invested Prince of Wales"

Mary's eyes narrowed. "But surely Edward would take the throne everyone knows that" She said.

"Yes but who would come after. I know you don't want to hear this Your Grace …"

"Please stop that" snapped Mary frustrated, it was becoming increasingly annoying to hear him calling her Your Grace, Your Grace very second of what was left of their day and to see him smirk or grin every time he'd said it.

"If you can't be serious when you direct to me with my proper title than I suggest you call me like you used to"

He was taken aback by her tone, yet he composed himself quickly and turning seriously at her he rephrased "Very well then … Lady Mary. Sound better to you Madame?"

It didn't matter if he called her Madame or failed to call her with her proper title, all that mattered was that Chapuys was no longer smirking or making fun of her new title.

* * *

_"Love is always uncalled for. It is ambitious, unjust and it takes no prisoners. In love anything goes just as war. The only difference is that the wounds you get from war last with you until death, love is so powerful that the wounds penetrate your soul leaving you wounded for all Eternity"_

**Love game by Anonymous**

 

* * *

 

This was uncalled for, for him to having to succumb to low as to ask and consider her first than his own Master, but hadn't he always done that? Put her above the rest, including his own Master.

"Yes it does" She answered.

"The Emperor knows that any other Princess that is born to your father will not face the same claim as you. Your mother's anointed head puts you above the others even above your father and let us face it milady" he said his smirk returning. "your brother is not going to live long enough to grow a full beard. Courtiers that have visited the Prince have said he is often sick and Lady Bryant has complained to your father about his violent coughs"

Mary looked away.

"It is time we –you I mean start to consider the future, the future of this Country and the future of the child you have in your belly" He said his gaze looking at her flat stomach.

A hand, as if to protect the child from the Ambassador's intrigue, flied straight unto her belly. "No" She said.

"No, leave my child out of this. He or she will grow away from all manipulation, I assure you that if God wills it I will be Queen and Philip as my Consort along with the child we will rid England of all its impurities"

"Milady that will not happen when your husband is very close to Cranmer, he has been seen talking to the man even going to his Chambers and he is making fast friends with Cromwell" He protested and ignoring the pain in his leg he stood up and walked to her.

They were close again and another argument both could feel it was about to start and they would blame each other later for it.

"Your Grace you are on a precarious position. The predicament you are in can only be solved if you continue to please your father the King. I have noticed that your husband is becoming too close to Cromwell and to Cranmer. Of all people you should realize that while dangerous it can be used to your advantage, if he were to become one of your father's closest people then you would have greater influence"

"But you have it all wrong _Your Excellency"_ -she protested. "Phillip is not what you think!"

"And why is that?" He cried. "Huh? Because as soon as your husband, God forbid that he does become your Consort he will not conform with being a mere Consort, a breeder to bring the Crown more sons! He will demand that you give him matrimonial rights and believe me **if or when** you do he will push you aside and England will be throw in Civil War. You will prove what everyone has said all along that women are incapable to rule, that they are naïve, easily dominated by their feelings …"

"Stop it!"

"… that women the only thing they are good at is to have children"

"Eustace" she said using his first name hoping that would get his attention but unfortunately it didn't.

"Your husband will take those matrimonial rights and push you aside Princess, think what will happen when you give him everything you've ever fought hard for? Would you leave your mother's struggle forgotten by giving you Crown over to a Heretic?"

"Eustace stop it!"

and that you milady are everything they always said …" "a concubine's daughter who is no better than her stepmother opening her legs to the first handsome man she finds …"

It had been the last straw, he had not realized he had gone too far this time. Mary swung her hand and slapped him hard.

It made him turn the other cheek.

In that moment however he took little care to remind himself of what her title was, looking into those eyes he saw all the damage he had done.

"Milady" he began saying attempting to apologize, something that all his enemies would have gladly paid to see. The cynic and strong Ambassador apologizing! The world must have gone mad –they would've all said.

He didn't care if anyone would see them as he advanced towards her, however still stricken by his accusation she backed away and she threw one guilty finger at him "Stay away from me! Just …" She could not finish her sentence as she began to sob and she would have fell to the ground had the Ambassador not been there to catch her like a knight in shining armor.

She hated being the damsel in distress, the Lady everyone had to pity, the victim.

Never be a victim –her mother always said, but that was what she'd turn herself into as she looked up to see the Ambassador still holding her in his strong arms –a victim.

"No let me go …" She said through her sobs. Her voice was barely audible and Chapuys did not understand the words that were coming out of her mouth, but seeing the hurt and hateful expression on her face he knew instantly.

 _She hates me_ –he thought miserably – _I am the one responsible for her misery, I drove her to this state_. It tore him apart more than it did her to see her this way.

He began to rock her as her sobs increased and her cries intensified. He slowly brought her up, and when they were finally standing he realized he had not let go of her. Not knowing what other thing to do but keeping her comfortable in his _weak_ arms he began whispering …

"I am sorry" He said simply, no emotion, but no regret either in his voice.

Mary looked up to him confused of what she'd heard.

 _I am sorry_ –he said, had she heard right? The Ambassador Eustace Chapuys, the almighty Excellency apologizing? She thought sarcastic.

It was confirmed when Chapuys whispered for a second time in her ear  
"My lady, my poor, sweet, sweet Lady" He called her and she gave up resting her head in submission to his words on his chest as his hands went to caress her hair, the other still holding unto her back pulling her closer to him.


	9. Fate gives us a Chance

" _To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell."_  
~ **Love in Times of Cholera [p. 100] by Gabriel Garcia Marques.**

* * *

In these times, the trees of Hunsdon were still crowned with fresh green leaves, and the grass flourished with lilies and roses. A place of peace and tranquility, somewhere Mary would always be put at ease from her troubles.

Yet it was impossible for Hunsdon to come to her, when she was so far away from it.

She didn't realize when the Ambassador's embrace began, and when the warmth of his arms died down.

Mary stared at him wide eyed as he parted from her.

There was no need to comfort her for her tears had all dried off.

"I apologize …" there were no more words to say, his sorrow was all that was left from his past regrets.

"Excellency"

"No milady" he stopped her holding a hand between them to stop her from coming any further. "I am the one who was at fault, please forgive me"

His voice did not speak of sorrow only of regret, but, his eyes spoke a different matter. They did not regret holding is Lady in his arms, or having him say those ugly truths to her.  
She had to learn that sooner or later the truth comes to all of us, and when we fail to acknowledge it will come and bite us back. He didn't want her to go through that like he did. He wanted her to be wise, to know ahead of time what she was going to be up against once her child was born.

Mary thought she knew very well what she was up against and so she hadn't listen to Eustace advice. She continued to ignore him, even now that he had apologized to her.

When would she learn that the world does not revolve around her? He thought. His eyes were still on her and vice verse.

They could feel the weight of each others pains on their shoulders.

Mary realizing that the Ambassador would not have it any other way accepted his apologies.

"You are forgiven" she said clearing her throat afterward.

She felt like a huge whole had been punched through her chest, and she didn't know why.  
Was it because of what the Ambassador said? Was it because Chapuys despite all his cynicism was right? –Phillip would take over their child's education? Would she be left out of the child's life?

No, she could not fathom that. It would never happen. Phillip had sworn to love and obey her, he would never do that. No matter that he was her husband and Lord, she was above him. A Princess of the blood and he just a mere Duke –ahh but a ruler Duke at that –her mind spoke. Yes, a Ruler, but just a Duke.

His ancestry could not compete with hers. She was the granddaughter of Isabel of Castill and Fernando of Aragon. They could have married her to highest noble in all of England and she would still have been above him.  
Phillip, she loved, but he was no match for her, daughter of Katherine of Aragon (the true Queen, no matter what everyone said) and King Henry VIII. She was a Tudor through and through, born and bred to rule, and ruler was what she would be, if not of England than of her Household, of her child's life.

Chapuys could see the fire in her eyes burning with determination. She was solely convinced, without a doubt, that victory was hers. Just like Anne Boleyn who tried to break her down into admitting that her parent's marriage was incestuous, and she never could. Mary still fought to prove her enemies, married or not that she was the daughter of Katherine of Aragon and that once her mind was made, nothing on Earth would made her change her mind.  
He was afraid of this. His Lady had a strong heart, an incorruptible spirit, but she was naïve and stubborn like a child.

She needed to grow up.

He was tired of playing second fiddle. It was always her, her father and her cousin, his Master. For once could she stop and listen to what he had to say?

Nothing compared to what he had done **for** her. Nothing.

"Excellency?"

Mary's voice snapped him from his thoughts. He straightened up and withdrawing his hand he let her come to him.

"Excellency what is really going on? Why all of the sudden hatred for me and Phillip?"

_Hatred for you Princess?_ Chapuys thought bitterly, not believing that he could think of her in that way. She was a Princess still, but in the eyes of her people she was a Duchess and she would remain so if her father succeeded in having another son.

_She thinks it all has to do with her then?_ He thought again. His eyes darting from where her flat belly was to her face.  
Pregnancy had had the effect on most women of taking their youth and beauty away, yet with the Duchess it had done all the contrary. It seemed as if her pregnancy was taking no toll on her youthful features at all. If anything, it had made her seem more youthful.

"I assure you Your Grace I bore you no regret when you married the Duke of Bavaria, but I would like you to consider what I said." He said carefully, his voice steady and his face expressionless.

Mary could not read what those eyes hid, so she turned her gaze away from them.

His eyes never diverting from hers, his gaze fell when he noticed for the first time the pendant on her dress on front.

It wasn't any pendant, he realized. It was a set of rubies and other precious gemstones, three pearls hanging from the base. In the center of it, the enameling was of Diana, the Roman Goddess of the Hunt. She had a sword being held with her right hand, and on the left there was her loyal dog.

Diana, just like his Lady, the Goddess was a symbol of strength and incorruptibility by anyone. Being a woman the pendant intended to represent Mary. Married to Phillip –it didn't change anything, she was still incorruptible.

_So she believes_ –Chapuys said bitterly to himself.  
He knew better. The moment that child is born, especially if it is a boy, she is going to be captured by her child's eyes that she will forget all about her mother's cause and their faith. She would forfeit the cause, he was sure because in the end if there was one thing his Lady desired more than her reinstatement to the line of succession –it was motherhood.

"Then what is the problem?" Mary asked stepping closer to His Excellency.

_What is the problem?_ Chapuys thought. _Phillip of Bavaria and that you don't see through his schemes._

He married her for money, and if he got a son from her the only one who would benefit would be him.  
His cousin, the Cleves woman would bear the child first and if it was a boy than all hopes would be lost for his Lady.  
In all truth he wanted to tell that he cared for nothing more than her, it was the only reason why he still prayed at night before going to bed, kneeling before the crucifix on his wall in spite of the terrible pain he suffered from his leg.

But he could not tell her that.

Why was it she always had that effect on him?

No other woman, no other person had that effect on him, to make him feel nervous, to make him numb.

_Just breathe Eustace_ –he told himself.

"Nothing."

She shook her head vigorously and she looked straight into his eyes again.

"I don't believe you" she said never taking her eyes off his.

It was funny how you could be so calm one minute and then be angry the next with the person you were supposed to care most about.

Where had that thought come from?

Chapuys was a great Diplomat, an idealist at times, but over all a great ally and a great enemy if he so desired. He had been all that she'd felt she had left from her mother and her cousin. He had been her in the good, in the bad. When she had been sick, he had been there for her. When she had been down, sad and overtaken by defeat he had been there too. He was there always. He never gave up on her cause, because -she later told herself- her cousin commanded him.

That is just what happened to Chapuys as he heard her cold tone.

"Well then you must" He said in a tone as cold as hers and he turned to leave walking past her, ignoring the pain on his leg.

She turned around, and before he could walk out the door she said: "Since I married Phillip you have done nothing but show me coldness and scolding me like a child, I am not a child Excellency I am the granddaughter of the Catholics Monarchs of Spain and daughter of Katherine of Aragon, who are you to scold me –I demand –"

There was not time for her to finish the sentence as he spun around and replied angry:

"Then act like one! You said that you were not going to marry Luis of Portugal because it would displease your father but you know it was because you were really displeased with your cousin because he refused to pay your full dowry, a dowry you should be grateful enough Your Grace he cared to cover part of the expenses when it should have been your father's responsibility!"

Mary rolled her eyes and shook her head vigorously, annoying Chapuys even more.

"That dowry could have avoided me marrying Phillip, but don't worry Excellency you can thanks my cousin because I am finally with someone I love and had the pleasure to meet instead of writing letters to a description" She said firmly.

He smirked. "Oh really?" He challenged

"This is not a laughing matter" Mary said walking to him. "Since I was two my life has never been in my hands, and finally when I have something in my own when you said you would always care for my happiness, you want to take it away"

Chapuys ignored her last sentence.

"No, you are right it is no laughing matter _Your Grace_. I promise you that after this night I will not give you no more advise, since it appears it is no longer needed" Chapuys said, the last part calmly through inside his whole being was seething with rage and frustration for the impotence that he was facing -no matter what he'd said his former Princess could not understand the reality of her situation or accept the true nature of her marriage with the Duke of Bavaria.

Mary nodded when Chapuys finished. She felt she had to say something, but anymore would just result in conflict and that was the last thing she, and she thought he too, wanted now.

"However," he later said. "if Your Grace ever needs a ally you can find one in me, as I told Your Grace's mother I am ever the humble servant of the Emperor and his family" He finished giving the Princess one last glance before he curtsied and left.

"Your Grace" He quickly said. Mary had no time to reply as he was out the door.

It had been the end of it.

This was what she wanted, she should be happy right? Mary asked herself knitting her eyebrows in confusion as a million thoughts circled her mind. The Ambassador was not going to bother her anymore, and hopefully not her cousin. -It was what had she been fighting for since she married Phillip.

Then why was it she was not feeling satisfied with the outcome?

* * *

Chapuys walked back to his Chambers. It was past midnight, he hadn't realize how long he had stayed with the Princess …

_No –Duchess now!_ His mind reminded him.

Every time spent with the Duchess always flew by.

He closed the doors of his Chambers and locked them to avoid anymore troubles.

The last thing he wanted was a repeat of today's incident.

He stripped from his clothing and put on a simple white linen chemise and black trousers. The room suddenly had become cold, very cold when he thought of his last words to the Duchess.

The Pendant, he was reminded of the enameling at the center. Diana, Goddess of the Hunt, it symbolized what she believed in, her faith, ironically through a pagan symbol.

Had that been a gift from her husband as well like her dress? No doubt, he thought irritably.  
Phillip of Bavaria was not only a charmer; he was also smart and cunning.

Chapuys made a mental note never to underestimate him.

Not only had he captured the daughter of the Queen of Heart's heart, but he also made her believe that she was indestructible by giving her gifts that symbolized her "independence".

Rubbing his forehead with both hands he pulled the covers on top of his body.

He didn't want to think back to the Duke of Bavaria, but it became inevitable when the only thing going around his mind was the enameling of the pendant.

 

* * *

 

" _Love is blind. There is no such thing as hate to love, all there is –is hate to obsession. Something as pure as love does not forgive, does not take prisoners … it happens gradually, you don't realize it until it is too late to turn back the clock."_  
 **~Turn back on love by Anonymous**

* * *

Mary's pregnancy was going by quickly. Soon they were in September. Her first trimester was ending and the Queen's time to give birth was nearing.

Everyone was anxious for Anne of Cleves to bear England a second son, a Duke of York to secure the Tudor Line.

As promised Chapuys had not come or seen her other than official business. Their discussions were short and straight to the point.

Mary gave no objections to this, yet there was something in the pit of her stomach, and it was not her child, nagging her after His Excellency would leave.

She had what she wanted, the Ambassador had stopped from criticizing her marriage, yet Mary was not pleased with the way things were going.

In the past they used to be friends, allies and though he promised that if she ever needed an ally she would have one in him, it had not been the same since she married Phillip.

The Imperial Ambassador had become more distant towards her, he would smile and greet her with the respect that she as Duchess of Bavaria, and daughter of King deserved, but the glee that he always held for her was gone and replaced with coldness that only she could see.

Phillip was oblivious to what was going on in their marriage. In body and spirit Mary was his wife, but there were times when Mary wanted to question him. She didn't like it that he was becoming too close to Cromwell and Cranmer. She still considered them her mortal enemies for what they'd done to her mother and to her –especially Cromwell.

Satan's Emissary, if there was one man in England she would like to see beheaded it was Cromwell. Without a doubt if such miracle ever happen she would pay to see his head chopped off.

The Court was still in the same spot they hadn't moved. Her father was seeing other women. He hadn't liked Anne of Cleves in the first place. His first reaction when she came to him was that she was a horse, and a Flanders' Mare –his personal favorite insult for her.

She had a child waiting in her belly, and yet he still didn't like her.

What was that her father wanted? Mary asked. If Anne had not had her marriage consummated, her father would have already sent her back to Cleves and she?

Mary's hand traveled to her stomach, no longer flat she could now feel the bump in the middle.  
Only six more months, give or take and she would have her child in her arms. Hopefully, she prayed, it would be a boy.

She prayed day and night to all the Saints and to the Virgin Mary to intercede on her behalf and not fail where her mother had sadly failed.

_Give me a son. One to fill my empty womb._ -She had hear mother often say in her prayers when she thought Mary wasn't hearing because she had appeared to be sleep at the time of the Queen's prayers.

Her thoughts quickly returned to what would have happened if Anne had never conceived, or worse -if the marriage had never been consummated!  
What a terrible thought indeed. She and Phillip might have never been, her child would have never have filled her empty womb. And her womb would have always remained empty, just like all the other promises her father had made to her of marriage. Thank God, that in the end He had intervened on the Wittelsbach's behalf. She prayed that only he would intervene once more for the wives of the Rulers, her and Anne, for a safe delivery of their offspring. And especially in her case that her offspring could be a boy to not only please Phillip but also her father who wanted to have a grandson, and a flock of sons to inherit the throne after he would be gone.

Her father, while her husband said he didn't care what the sex of the child was as long as he or she was healthy; he continuously mentioned that it would do the Tudor Dynasty good to be blessed with more male heirs. He meant not only his wife, but Mary of course whose his hopes of having grandsons rested on.

While she should feel all the pressure of preserving his father's Dynasty on her, she did not for she knew that the greater pressure was on Anne's shoulders whom had a lot to lose if she failed like her namesake, to give her father the male heir he wanted.

It pained Mary to see her father treat his wife in such a despicable manner and it all had to do with another Howard Harlot! She had found out because of Phillip's growing friendship with Cranmer. He had informed her that since they had married, the Queen had received a new Lady In Waiting, one who was the niece of the Duke of Norfolk, her name was Katherine Howard but -he'd said- she went as "Kitty". Her father's infatuation with her had been instantaneous since the moment he laid eyes on her, according from what Phillip was told by Cranmer.

Mary nearly exploded when Phillip finished telling her all about her father's new Mistress.

_Another Howard girl who lures my father away from his rightful wife._ She had thought bitterly, feeling history repeating itself again.

_What pain must Anne be in!_ J _ust to think of all she has given my father, her virginity, her freedom, her soul even though she is a Heretic she has been forced to recant her beliefs –everything just to please the King, and he still treats her like she was nobody._

It was not fair!

Her father had been fooled once by one Harlot, did he need to fooled twice so he could learn his lesson?

She didn't get to finish that thought as she'd heard the heavy footsteps and excited voice of her husband coming to their Bed Chamber.

"Mary!" He exclaimed.

She wasn't fully dressed yet, she was still in her nightgown.

"What is it? What is wrong?" Mary asked concern upon seeing the worried expression on her husband's face.

"The Queen …" he staggered "my c-ousin … she is in labor"

"Then that is good news" Mary said giving him a smile thinking it was odd since it was always him who have the smiles.

Phillip's face fell.

"Phillip what is wrong?" Mary asked concerned upon seeing her husband's grim expression.

He walked to where Mary was laying and sat on the bed next to her, He murmured something so low that Mary couldn't hear so she asked him again "Phillip what is the matter?"

"They don't think she can survive Mary"

Mary's hand flew to her mouth.

"And the baby?" She asked immediately as soon as her shock had passed.

"It can be saved but Dr. Butts ... and your father ... they say that ..." Phillip could not bring himself to say it but Mary understood.

Her father would be forced to make the same choice like with her late stepmother Jane Seymour, her life or the child's. Unlike before where he'd hesitated because it was Jane Seymour, he would not lift one finger to save Anne, he hated her.

Never in her life had she seen Phillip so forlorn and broken, she sat up and put her hand on top of his.

Phillip turned to face her, emerald eyes met dark gray.

"It is going to be alright, God will provide"

She wanted to add _God will find a way_ , but she couldn't find her voice to say anymore lies.

Phillip felt the warmth of Mary's skin against his cold hand.

He was pale, and he had bags under his eyes. Mary had never seen him like this, but she understood what he was going through, she had been going through the same thing when her stepmother, the late Queen Jane Seymour had been in labor with her brother Edward.

When she had heard that her mother was dying, she hadn't slept, she hadn't ate. Day and night whenever she would be out of sight from Lady Sheldon and Lady Bryant, she would pray for her mother -that she may recovered and in desperation she would add to her prayers a hopeless wish that her father would leave the Harlot and return to her mother so they could be a family again, and she could be his pearl.

Phillip must be thinking the same thing, he loved his cousin like no other in his family. He had said it many times, him and his brother did not get along and he had never known his father for he'd died when Phillip was one. His mother was never there and she died when he and his brother were very young. The Cleves, especially Anne, he'd say to Mary, was the only part of his family he truly felt he could call them family, especially Anne whom he loved as a sister.

She felt Phillip now clutch his hand.

"It will be alright, I promise" She said once more. The roles had been turned, now it was her smile which had become contagious forcing him to smile and nod his head in return, but he hadn't been convinced, and neither had she -even if she had been the one to speak with such determination that ought to have left no room for doubt.

_False hopes._

The fate of Anne of Cleves would be decided today.

_That is_ if her father gave her a chance.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Those pendants with enameling figurines on the center were very popular and were usually in multi-color. This trend became a fashion during the Renaissance as well as Baroque Jewelry which will be more seen in future chapters. Symbolism for me IS VERY IMPORTANT as it hints to where the story is going and where CHARY is going also.
> 
> I went to the museum of art where I saw a lot of Byzantium Art, and Renaissance Brooches, Pendants, Enameling, jewelry and more ornaments worn by men and women by the period such as belt buckles and cloth buckles which helps me more when I describe what the characters are wearing, and it adds meaningful symbolism to the character's profiles.
> 
> The pace is slow because in all honesty, in really life these were very religious figures and though this is only fiction and AU as most of the fanfictions, I still want to get a degree of realism by capturing the character's historical profiles more than their showtime's counterparts, though as you have read I do mix in history with the show's timeline.


	10. Back to the Start

" _You may believe that nothing is wrong until you are crying,  
crying on me_ _!  
That life is too long until you are dying, dying on me  
You think that everybody is the same  
_ _I don't think that anybody is like you_  
You think that everybody is the same  
I don't think anybody is like you"  
~ **Re-arranged by Limp Bizkit.**

* * *

That is if her father let Anne of Cleves live ...

Mary thought grimly how everything was passing in the form of a vicious cycle in their lives. For the longest time Mary believed she had nothing to live for except her mother's faith, and aspiration that one day she could become Queen.

_Que no se te olvide eres descendiente de Fernando e Isabela y algun dia seras Reina. [1]_

Her mother had said what for Mary now seemed ages ago. She had to her mother that she would be Queen, and that she would make her parents proud, especially her.

That promise was kept, Mary might not become Queen of England (if Anne bore a son that is) but she was destined, she still believed, to become a great ruler alongside Phillip. He was a Duke, a Ruler Duke at that. In spite of what the others thought of Phillip, she believed he would make a great Ruler, because he had a great woman by his side to teach him, her.

Besides, Philip had mentioned that her brother was leaving no heirs and that he would soon reclaim his title and his Uncles' to become the new Count Palatine. Just imagine, thought Mary, if Phillip becomes Count Palatine as well that will elevate him in my father's book, and in my cousin's. The latter of which was more important for Mary.

She depended a lot on her father's love and approval, but second after her father's was her cousin's who had been a great asset, and help throughout all her life -after her father's unholy union with the Harlot.

If it had not been for his support Mary would not be here right now -she felt.

She could feel Phillip squeeze her hand as they walked to the Queen's Chambers. They were not allowed to get in.

Inside were the midwives, the Royal Physicians, Doctors Linacre and Butts and of course the Queen's must trusted Ladies In Waiting. That gave Mary some comfort as she clutched the rosary that had once belonged to her mother, handed to her by her late stepmother -Jane Seymour, that the Queen's new Lady, the new Harlot was not there with her.

Her presence alone would be enough to curse the mother and the child.

Mary prayed for a safe delivery, though she was supposed to care, for this child (based on its gender) could either elevate her or separate her more from the succession. At this point she did not care however on what her sibling's gender was, she only cared that he or she as its mother would be allowed to live - _that is if my father decides to speak for both_ -she reminded herself as she heard Phillip greet the person she least expected to see.

There was the Imperial Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys standing before the Duke and the Duchess of Bavaria.

He curtsied to the Duke and to the Duchess.

 _I should use a cane_ -Chapuys thought feeling the pain in his leg returning after two days of being absent. _-but that would make me seem more like the broken and decayed Ambassador that Marillac thinks me to be, and that I am sure half of this blasted Court thinks of me too._

He finished his line of thought as he head the Duke's voice greeting him in return.

"Your Excellency, is a good thing to see you here. Is there any news on my cousin's condition?" The Duke asked him in a hurried tone, like the impetuous young man he was.

Seeing into his emerald eyes he saw no patience to anyone or anything but , he mentally scoffed, he was not.  
There was more naivety and impatience in these man's eyes than any of the proud English nobles and Royals he had been witnessed of in his life-time, and that -for Eustace- was saying something.

His Master's cousin, Her Grace's eyes were as pensive as were expected. She had one weakness, feeling empathy for others. Unlike her husband, and the rest of the Court she put her own needs below the others. It was always watching over Elizabeth, Edward or watching over Phillip before putting her needs in first place.

Naive and irritable, yet a trait he found to admire over time in the former Princess.

He returned his gaze to the Duke, who did not take notice, and if he did he did not seem to care (as he had other things on mind), that he had not returned his wife's greeting.

"His Majesty has reached a decision with the Physicians." He told the Royal couple.

Both, especially the Duchess, leaned forward, their eyebrows arched.

"The labor has lasted more than usual and it has come to a decision, either the Queen's life or the child's and since His Majesty has suspected it was a boy because Her Majesty's womb was always round centered instead of being low like it would be if it was a girl"

Chapuys, by the time he had finished watched the Duke's face falling, his wife coming closer to his side clutched his hand and put her other harm on her shoulder where she rested her rosary on. It was her mother's rosary, Chapuys noted.

The closer Mary neared Phillip's left ear, the sicker Chapuys got. He felt he would throw up at any minute his morning breakfast. He had to move away from the scene, thankfully though Fleming was there with him and when he moved away from the distraught couple, Fleming walked alongside with his Master closer to the Queen's Chambers were sudden screams of pains echoed the hallways.

Phillip shot his head in surprise as he heard the screams from his cousin, the Queen of England and Lady of Cleves. Though he did not share Mary's beliefs, at this moment he was willing to try the old ways for the sake of his cousin's and his niece or nephew's health.

He began, as his eyes opened to Mary. "Sweetheart I know you do not believe in God the way I do, but I have always been interested in the old ways, I want to learn. Please" he said, his voice becoming more passionate as he took Mary's hands in his own, he could feel the rough texture of her mother's rosary against his skin. "allow me to pray with you for the Queen and for the child."

"Phillip" She said slowly. She could not believe he was asking her this.

"It will be an honor" Mary said.

Phillip could not smile to show his happiness because at the moment he felt helpless, the woman he had grown to love as a sister could be exhaling her last breath at any moment. He needed Mary's security, her strength which was much greater than his. Mary gladly gave it to him.

They began to pray, first for their cousin and half sibling respectively, and then lowering their voice they prayed for the Queen's health that she might have a safe delivery and that both she and the child might survive the pains of childbirth.

* * *

Hours passed and the screams of the Queen intensified. The Physicians were having a hard time restraining the Queen and the midwives, some of them had pink and purple bruises on their eyes and scratch marks on their arms. They all tried very hard to restrain the Queen from harming herself and from harming her _captors_.

They tried telling Anne too that she was not their prisoner, they were all here to help her, but Anne did not listen. All she knew was that her life was doomed with the delivery of this child. She had never known pain like this before. She had heard about it through her sister Sybilla and her mother, they said it was natural that all women who were mothers had gone through it. Her mother and her sister had survived, why shouldn't she?

But unlike their labor pains, hers was different because not only was she carrying a child, she was carrying Henry VIII's child and like all his wives she had inherited the curse that accompanied childbirth ... DEATH.

Katherine of Aragon when she'd borne babies, the story was very popular even in Germany, all her babies except one had been dead. Lady Mary, now the Duchess of Cleves and her stepdaughter was the only survivor of her mother's miscarriages. Lady Elizabeth's mother, the same story. The stress had sentenced them to death. One a slow and painful death in a prison Castle, living in poverty and condemned never to see her mother again, and the other a swift and shameful death with the blow of a sword. Both their daughters had been left orphans. But alas, when fate seemed to smile on them with Jane Seymour; fate had returned with the vengeance for the woman who stepped over Anne Boleyn's bloodied shoes and took her away leaving yet another child orphan.

Anne did not know if God was out there, or if he was listening, but if He was, she prayed to him that please do not let her die. As heartless as her prayer sounded to Him, she preferred for the child to die if her fate was to die. She would not condemn another child to an orphan life in the most vile Court in all of Europe. No, she would not have it that way! Either both lived, or none lived at all.

Soon her wish would be answered.

As she saw the Doctors open a box where they pulled out an scalpel, Anne took a deep breath and prepared herself for the tougher rode ahead.

She was not afraid though, she had made her peace with God. At least, she thought, if she were to die now, she would have some company in Heaven with her father and her child.

* * *

Mary and Phillip had finished praying when the Queen's cries died down. Phillip's head turned to the Queen's chamber door in alarm. It was only him, his wife, His Excellency, and other Ambassadors, along with some man servants from His Majesty.

The cries had ceased when him and Mary's last prayer ended.

Mary's head shot up in alarm at the same time as the Ambassador Chapuys' when one set of cries broke the deadly silence.

It was a newborn's cry. Mary gasped when the Physicians came from the room, a grave look on their faces.

No, Mary thought, it could not be. Not Anne ... not her ... please don't let her be ...

But she was, as she locked eyes with the Ambassador's who nodded. Mary did not shed tears as she had for Jane Seymour upon learning of her death.

He looked away moments later when the King came rushing in. He had probably had already heard the cries from his newborn, by now everyone probably had.

After a deadly silence as the child's cries died down slowly, her father cut the tension in the room as he stood face to face with the Physicians.

He could not wait this time for the news of his offspring's gender. This was not a woman he loved, or cherished, this was a woman he was forced to love or bed just for the sake of obtaining a Duke of York, a second heir to maintain his Tudor Dynasty. He had to know once and for all, Mary thought as he saw her father's expectant stare, if marrying the Flander's Mare had been worth the wile.

"What is it?" He asked again when the Physicians began trembling.

Mary could already see the future, you didn't have to be a astrologer to know what was going to happen next after they informed him the bad news.

However, for better or for worse, in this case Mary considered it for worse, one of the midwives came quickly bowing in front of her father.

"Your Majesty" She began, she had trouble looking at the King as she had one purple eye, product of the German fist that had collided to her face after she tried to calm the Queen down.

The King showed no compassion to the hurt maid, like with his Royal Physicians he screamed "Well what is it? What did the Queen have?"

Before the Physicians could answer, the maid replied: "A girl Your Majesty ... The Queen did not survive the birth and the child ..."

"Yes?" Asked the King more angry than impatient.

The midwife was forced to look down, she was afraid to face the King right now, but she was forced to respond, she had no choice.

"The child has just died ... it stopped breathing ... we tried everything but ..."

The maid did not get to finish as the King left the room in a hurry. There was no pain in his eyes, no sadness, only fear and desperation.

* * *

_"And we start from zero. When you make believe that nothing is wrong, he comes to you again. You do not realize it, but one death changes us for better or for worst, it happens the same with the evolution of the relationship, from strangeness it becomes love. But be careful because once you open your gates to love, you can never close them."_ **~Open the gates by Anonymous**

* * *

Now that his wife was gone, and so the child he began plotting. He needed a new wife, someone younger, someone stronger, someone who could love him and that he could in return.

He had the perfect candidate.

But his ambitions did not stop there. For if he married his rose without a thorn, a single male heir would not be enough, for security, just for now until he could marry his true love, he would have to deposit all his hopes on his first grandchild.

He looked at the old Crucifix that was on top of his drawer next to his four poster bed. He had not prayed to that Silver Crucifix since Sir Thomas' death.

Of all the people Henry had executed, there was not one he more regretted than Sir Thomas. He had been his loyal servant, he said so himself in his execution, but had been blind, very blind because of that witch, that whore Anne Boleyn.  
Out of all the damage she had done when he'd married her, the only good thing that came from her was Elizabeth. He loved that child, sometimes more than Mary. Though Mary would always have a special place in his heart, it was Elizabeth whom he considered his True Tudor Rose.

* * *

The months passed and the whole Country mourned another Consort and their lost unnamed Princess. Mary felt more pressured now than ever. When Anne of Cleves had died, all the hopes of getting another male heir were deposited on her.

Phillip tried to calm her down by telling her of what great life awaited the next ruler of Bavarian, and possibly he would add, the next Count Palatine.

Like her he was ambitious, though he tended not to flaunt it like the rest of his English Counterparts. The death of Anne of Cleves, the cousin he loved like a sister had changed him, and it changed her as well.

One week later after the time mourning for Anne of Cleves had passed for them, His Excellency came to visit her.

Somehow he always seemed to know when she would be alone. At this point nothing about Chapuys surprised her. She knew that he had a network of spies, and she wouldn't put it past him to bribe some of her own maids at Hunsdon where she was currently staying.

She was seven months pregnant now, she felt herself very heavy.

She had spent the Holidays with her father who did not seem ever remotely sad for the loss of his wife or his shot-lived Princess. Instead, he had taken the time of Christmas Celebrations to introduce his future wife, Katherine Howard.

Mary had to stop herself from yelling at her **Harlot** and **whore**. If it hadn't been for her, Anne of Cleves would still be alive. She had gone into early labor because of the stress that her father and her former Lady In Waiting had put her through with their affair behind her back. Though she had seen Kitty Howard on few occasions with her late stepmother, she had never got the chance to talk to her, not that she cared, she had no desire then as she had no desire now to talk to this frivolous whore.

Whore, that is all she would ever amount to be, a whore just like her cousin the doomed Lady Anne Boleyn.

She was glad to hear that after the New Year was over, her father had given her and her husband permission to travel back to Hunsdon. He agreed that the fresh air would do her and her grandchild good.

Phillip had warned her that it would be wise not to upset her father anymore. Though her father had expressed no displeasure, Phillip could tell that he wasn't pleased with them. His future wife could be the future mother of the Duke of York, Mary had to acknowledge her at some point before she became Queen, but Mary would not listen. Why did she have to acknowledge her? She would say. Phillip not wanting to discuss anymore put the matter to rest, but for the future, he made a mental note not to give up. Their acceptance, especially his wife's depended on how well she behaved with Kitty Howard.

"Excellency" she greeted as her attentions were focused on Chapuys whom she was surprised to see gripping a cane. Her eyes turned to concern as she focused more on the Ambassador's leg where the gout was said to be.

"Are you alright?" She asked in deep worry.

"Your Grace I am afraid I am suffering from a little bit of gout" he responded.

"Please sit" She said quickly. He obliged taking a seat in an arm chair next to her. He hoped that what he came to call the curse of the armchair would not repeat itself for the third time.

He felt comfortable as he gave a long sigh. He hated having this cane, he really did. But the Physician gave him no choice, it was either that or having to rely on the shoulders of others, something nobody -he'd vowed- would ever see him doing.

"How are you? I am sorry that I have not reported myself back to you" She said earnestly. "Things have been very ... strange"

Chapuys nodded. "I agree, the Emperor does not agree either with your father's new love. Rumors are that he has already married her" He said calmly watching how his former Princess' eyes went wide with shock.

"What?" She asked outrage. "No. How could he have done that? Did he not learn his lesson with Anne Boleyn?" She said spitting the name Anne Boleyn as if it was venom

Chapuys lifted an eyebrow. After all these years her hatred for Anne Boleyn had not lessened. Her father's latest marriage, if he had indeed had married the young woman, would only intensify her hatred for the King's late concubine.

"I am afraid the King is very much in love with the Howard girl, and he has not deterred as I have told your cousin from his amorous pursuit with this silly girl. But regardless of who she is related, she is or will be your father's Queen, it is recommendable that you show her respect, your own cousin has told me to pass this message unto to you" He said leaning forward, his voice becoming lower as they both knew that every wall on England had more than one set of ears.

Mary tilted her head and her eyebrows still raised she said in disbelief "How can I respect her? I hate her!"

Chapuys avoided the urge to tell her anymore, casting a brief glance at her swollen belly, he didn't want to cause her or her unborn child anymore stress. Though he still believed her marriage to Phillip of Bavaria a mistake, if the Queen failed to give the King a son, than all the hopes to restoring England would rest on her and on the child she was carrying. It was the sole reason why he had not slept for nearly a week, praying to God and all the Saints that the child resting in the Duchess' womb might be a son.  
Regardless of what its education could be, if He or She was anything like its mother, then it would have its mother's true heart and logic, hopefully if it was a boy he could help his mother (he was willing to give her child the benefit of the doubt despite what its education would be) restore England to the Nation it was meant to be, and pull it away from the clutches of Heresy and the Devil.

"It is necessary that you must, your father everyone expects you to" Chapuys said, his tone still calm.

His relaxed position made her relax herself in her seat. She had been moving constantly, even when she was resting from the anxiety she felt because of her pregnancy, and as of now her father's recent marriage.

She could not accept Kitty Howard, she never would. That was impossible! Why accept a woman who was cousin to the Concubine responsible for ruining her life and her mother's?

But eventually she saw the logic in the Ambassador's advice. If she didn't "submit" herself to her father's new wife, dire consequences would await her. She would repeat history once more like when she had refused the Harlot's offer, which she was still glad to have done so, but this time this Harlot's offer would be different for everyone would recognize her as her father's wife.

"Then there is no choice?"

Chapuys shook his head "I am afraid not Your Grace"

"Very well then" she began "tell my cousin that he can stop worrying over me, I will accept my father's proposal and marriage and I will show nothing but kindness to England's new Queen" She said giving him a light grin.

He was not convinced, he knew she would continue to blame the new Queen for the late Queen's death and the death of her sibling, but on the brighter side his former princess was learning the rules of the game, and that for him, was a great advantage for it would help her a great deal, especially if the child she carried in her belly was a a boy, England's future King and Duke of Bavaria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Spanish to English: Don't forget that you are descendant from Fernando and Isabel and that one day you will be Queen.
> 
> *Also I will put Kitty Howard's age around nineteen, since the series made her be younger, but her birth year is around 1521, she was only five years younger than Mary so she will still be nineteen for next chapter, her month though I put it around March, my own invention around the time when Mary's child is supposed to be born, when she will turn 20.
> 
> *So what will the first Tudor Bavarian be, Lady or Lord?


	11. Strange Discussions and a Lady's Dilema

" _Love conquers all_

 _Thank God that our hardships are over,_  
Thank God that we will never have to know disgrace again  
and thank the Lord and all the Saints that I am here with you  
again"  
~ **Epilogue by Anonymous**

 

* * *

 

After Chapuys left the Duchess' company, he traveled back to the Embassy at Whitehall. Upon reaching his Chambers another dose of that horrible medicine awaited him. The Physician told him, more like ordered him (thought Chapuys irritated when he spotted the small vial on top of his desk) that he had to take it every day.

Fleming, had no doubt put it there.

Oh Fleming, was there something that man did not know about him?

No, Fleming knew everything there was to know about Eustace, and vice verse Eustace felt like a fool for Fleming who had started as a simple servant, had now become a Master at masking his emotions better than him.

Eustace sipped up what was left of the potion in the vial. It tasted like vomit, as usual, that could only mean the dose was stronger.

He felt the pain ease the moment he had drank the tonic, but it didn't make the night any easier.

He had trouble sleeping when he remembered about the Duchess' worries. She had a lot to lose if the child in her womb was not the grandson her father hoped.

Should Prince Edward that is, not live past his infancy, the Duchess' son could become the next King of England, uniting the Heretic Territories with the Country.

Everyone at Court knew of the Prince's poor health, and by now they thought that the King was cursed never to have a healthy male heir to succeed him, that is why all his hopes were deposited on the child inside his eldest daughter's womb.

For her sake, he too hoped that it would be a boy, even if that half German, half English heir would not be the heir his Master would hope to control. The Tudor-Wittelsbach would be a Tudor and a Heretic, and if he was anything as proud like his grandfather then there was no way Chapuys could see the child working for an Imperial alliance between both their Countries. Like his grandfather he would be a very proud, and arrogant King, a Conqueror at heart.

England had lived through many Heretic Kings before, mad men and women who wanted to seize the throne and take not only England but all the world, such men like the present King, would inherit their ambitions and madness to the Duchess' offspring if it was a son.

He thought sourly about that child. For not only would it inherit England, but it would unite England and the Protestant Territories. If it what he was told was true, then the Duke of Bavaria was not only close to becoming Count Palatine, he was also closer now to become ruler of the major German Heretic territories. His cousins and Uncles had left no male heirs, those who had -their sons were weak and they would probably not live like the King of England's son, past their infancy. The only heir who would reclaim those titles and territories would be Phillip Wittelsbach.  
Chapuys made the sign of the cross. He hoped that the child, if it was indeed a boy that he would be a better Ruler and (especially better) Administrator than his father, and not lose control of his Kingdom because of the same benign neglect.

* * *

Eustace took the days when he had returned to the Embassy and while recovering from the after taste of the medicine that Dr. Butts gave him, he began to write to the Emperor once more telling him that the King did not deter from his amorous pursuit nor from his ambition to control all souls in England.

Close to five hundred last year alone had been burned, imprisoned or decapitated, Catholics and Heretics alike. There was no end to the King's madness and since he had wedded Mistress Katherine Howard, his madness only seemed to increase more.

After Chapuys finished writing his last letter he sealed it shut and gave it to Fleming, gave him strict instructions to hand the letter to Master Roach, a man servant and spy of his that would make sure the letter would get to the right hands.

"Right away sir" Fleming had said but he did not move.

Eustace turned to look up at Fleming. "Is there something you want to say Fleming?" He asked in his worst irritable voice.

"If I may sir ... I was wondering if you could shed some light -"

He didn't get to finish as Chapuys cut his sentence harshly -"What now?"

"His Excellency is not well and you have refused to see the Duke of Bavaria, he has been asking for your presence a lot these days, he came by yesterday and he says it is very urgent" Fleming said, his face as the tone of his voice were completely neutral.

Chapuys had been too right with Fleming, he was both good at masking his beliefs, as he was making others tick, including his own Master.

After a while of keeping silence, pondering on whether he should consider seeing the Duke of Bavaria, he finally asked:  
"Is he still here?"

He hoped that Fleming would say no, he had no desire to see anybody at this time, much less that man.

Eustace often asked himself why was it he was on England anyway? He didn't like the weather, certainly like the people nor their useless King, and even the foreigners at Court were insufferable, especially the French Ambassador -Marillac.  
For some reason Marillac irritated him more than any other person on the English Court, with the exception of the Duke of Bavaria of course. Marillac was like Eustace, willing to go to any lengths to get a French Alliance with England. The only problem with Marillac was that he relied too much on his eyes where Eustace was concerned.  
When he saw Eustace he saw a broken man, old and weary with gout on his leg, he did not see the cynic and cunning politician he was known for.  
If he didn't know better, he would say that Marillac was trying to replace Chapuys as new dominant Foreign figure. Much like a new wolf to the pack, he was challenging the older Alpha male.  
Because he was younger and he had greater recommendations, and a keen eye like Chapuys, and also to his advantage -many in the English Court had strong French sympathies, he thought he could take on Chapuys and leave without a scratch.  
He was wrong. He hadn't seen the best of him yet.

"Yes. He is waiting outside" Fleming's reply broke his chain of thought about his foreign rival.

Eustace as he was about to reply, did something else instead, something that surprised Fleming for the first time, who had thought he had seen it all with his Master, he was wrong.

"You think I should receive him and please speak without riddles or asking another question, only fools do that and I don't take you for a fool Fleming" Chapuys said with a cutting edge tone.

As was expected, Fleming was shocked to hear his Master ask him for his opinion. The tone he had heard it before, it was the way him and other men above his station addressed themselves to their servants, but never had he heard of a man as proud as His Excellency to ask a mere servant, a commoner who was more below him for his opinion. Yet Fleming hid his surprised quickly, closing his eyes for a moment pondering on what should be the right answer to say to him.

The right answer, that was difficult in the case of his Master there was no right or wrong, only better or worse. So he chose the better answer.

"Sir I think it is necessary that you should receive him. He has been at your door for months now. The only times you have been seen speaking with Your Grace has been with the Duchess present, it will do your Master's cause no good if you keep refusing him, especially now that he is becoming close friends with the two greatest Heretics on His Majesty's Court" Fleming explaiend.

Chapuys raised an eyebrow. Fleming had evolved, he had become not only a great masker, also a great observant.

"Furthermore if Your Excellency permits me ..." Fleming stopped waiting for his Master's nod, when he gave it to him he continued "if the Duke of Bavaria's position improves with his friendship to the King's two greatest advisers -"

Chapuys could not resist the urge to snort when Fleming mentioned the word _friendship._  
Fleming and the former Princess had to be the only two people in this God forsaken Island to think that such a word still existed in their Country's dictionary.

Fleming went on ignoring his Master's snorts. "he could escalate above others, many said that the death of his close relative, the late Queen, Anne of Cleves has changed him and he has becoming an active participant in the Court's machinations. If he were to have a son that would only elevate him and his wife higher. I do suggest you see him."

After Fleming finished Chapuys grabbed his cane and stood up. He had no need to dress since he had woken very early in the morning, as he usually did to put on his best garments. He possessed no especial jewelry, unlike other Ambassadors he did not like to be known for his jewelry or his expensive clothing. He did not want to be noticed at all, being in the shadows was the best way to achieve his means.

"Sir let me help you"

Chapuys held a hand up.

"Your forget one thing Fleming" He said as he walked out of his bed chamber. "The Duke will be elevated beyond his wildest dreams if he bores the King a heir to succeed him after Prince Edward."

"That is exactly what I said sir"

Chapuys shook his head "No Fleming. You have mastered every emotion and learned the way the Court works, but you still have a long way to go if you think the former Princess will benefit anything from her husband's elevation."

Fleming narrowed his eyes and arch brows, not fully understanding. "Sir?"

Chapuys stifled a chuckle. "The King will elevate the child, elevate her husband's pension and subsequently move on to adopt the child as his own. His tutors will be decided, if they are not already before the boy can be nursed. The King wants his name to live on, he doesn't want his daughter to rule after her son, with a son he has an excuse to set her aside."

"B-but her mother was an anointed Queen, everyone knows that -"

"And you think that matters to the King? If you know your history well Fleming than you know what happened when Matilda and her husband Geoffrey of Anjou tried to take the throne after her father Henry I died. She talked like a man, educated in Germany, and married to a foreigner, she was rejected by the people because she lacked charisma. Your people Fleming prefer soft talk over a strong fist, and that is exactly what they got when they fought to replace Empress Matilda for her uncle Stephen, the only left surviving son of William the Conqueror. You are very naive Fleming if you think the Duchess can have a chance of ruling this Country."

Fleming said nothing after his Master finished. He knew he was right, he knew enough of English history to know that his people would make the same mistake, but his Master was forgetting that the people also had good reason to fear a woman Monarch. Since the war of the Roses everyone was fearing civil war again, the Tudor Dynasty after all was still relatively new.

"Should I tell the Duke you are unavailable then?"

"If he knocks that door again do tell him"

"He has already knocked and he is waiting outside" Fleming responded him in his usual calmness.

Chapuys could not believe as he entered his Entrance Chamber that all this time that he had been discussing the matter of the succession and the Duke's importance with Fleming, that the Duke had been there outside his Chambers all this time.

"And you told him to wait?"

"He was very insistent sir" Fleming said.

Couldn't God just grant him one lousy day where Fleming didn't have to question his orders or do things before telling him?

He guessed not and finding no other excuse he told Fleming to open the door for the Duke of Bavaria and let him in.

Fleming did as he was told -this time- and received the Duke who greeted him with a slight grin. After Fleming left he and the Duke greeted each other.

Everything about this man, Eustace found it suspicious. Everyone was taken by his smile, most of all his wife. The way they thought of him, you would think he was a demi God or something. Chapuys and Marillac were the only ones who could see right through him. Scared, shy, honest? He was not, Phillip of Bavaria, Chapuys became surer now as he saw into his Green emerald eyes, was just as ambitious as the rest of the Royal Courtiers.

"Excellency I have been trying to reach you, your man servant probably has told you I have knocked on your door several times and it is very important that we both talk" Phillip said. His grin disappeared and it was replaced with a serious expression. "It concerns the Duchess"

Chapuys raised his eyebrows. Phillip had said the key word to grab his attention.

"And what does Her Grace have to do with your visit Your Grace?"

"May we sit, please?" Phillip asked him in a formal tone.

Chapuys nodded and both sat on separate sofas, facing each other.

"I want to know that I am well aware that your Master is not at all pleased with the turn of events regarding his cousin's marriage to me. My wife has had troubles sleeping at night thinking she had caused great damage because she chose me instead of your master." Phillip started with no derision in his voice; for he hadn't had the intention to come all the way to Whitehall for squabbling "I thought myself indeed responsible for her sadness, I am beholden to the Emperor now as the cause of my wife's initial grief."

"And Mary of Hungary you might as well blame her" Chapuys said.

"Excellency I am not blaming every Imperial that has crossed her door, our doors. I know you have always been a constant in her life, I want you to be so, but if you would stop from telling her about the problems of her cousin, it does not concern us anymore, we have enough to worry about with her father exerting pressure on her like crazy"

Was this boy telling Chapuys how to do his job? Did he thought he could come in here and give him instructions on how to be a better ally and Diplomat for Her Grace?

"Then if she has great advise such as the one you see fit to give me, then I don't see the purpose of this visit"

"Excellency I thought I made it clear what I said was -"

Chapuys did not let him finish.

"No Your Grace you did not." Chapuys said releasing a light chuckle. "You cannot come here and tell me how I should do my duty to my Master better anymore than what you have already established I should abstain myself from doing. Why don't we both agree that we won't bother each other or Her Grace. You do your duty in Court, I will do mine where I always do in the real world."

Phillip blinked twice.

"If I said something to cause this behavior on you I apologize -"

"Don't Your Grace, you are a Duke, I am but a commoner, a Duke never apologizes"

"I am not any Duke I am Duke of Bavaria and soon -"

"Count Palatine and I have to say that fate has been smiling at you greatly, you will step over your weak cousins' inheritances and you will become one of the richest men in all of Germany as the most powerful, I can only imagine why the sudden flock of friends at your side, _makes very little sense_ "

"I think I should come when His Excellency is in a better mood" Phillip said standing from his chair and heading to the door.

"One more thing Your Grace, a word of _friendly_ advise"

Phillip turned. "Yes?"

"For the future when you want to knock on my door, please don't. It doesn't look good when you are too insistent, in this Court that is a sign of weakness."

Chapuys said no more and watched Phillip slam the door behind him.

Eustace snorted, that young man was having very little control over his emotions. A Duke insisting to seek the advice of a mere Ambassador ... _Just when I thought I had seen it all_ , thought Eustace, _there is still a lot left to amuse me._

* * *

_"Intelligence is always of secondary importance in enchanting men, although it should eventually be apparent to any man who is himself intelligent_ **~The Satanic Witch p.201, by Anton Szander La Vey.**

* * *

 

Mary was finishing reading her favorite work of Plato, The Republic. She put her book down on the table next to her where there were plenty of other Classics that had become her company in the last three weeks.

The time for her to go into labor, she felt, was nearing. The baby inside her kicked harder each time. She was not afraid to die in childbirth, despite her experience in watching the people she cared about, die. It was the safety of her baby that mattered most. If she failed to produce a male heir, she feared her father would be more than disappointed at her, he would be furious at the both of them, her and Phillip.  
He would blame Cromwell no doubt, he would tell him that not only he had given him a wife who had produced nothing but a dead girl and she died too along with her babe, but also a son in law who could not provide his daughter and England with another male heir.

Phillip had assured her that there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear, but he was wrong. There was **lot** to fear. This was not Germany, Spain, Bavaria or Cleves ... **this was England**. Her father was King, Lord and Pope of everyone. His word was Law, and as Head of the Church his authority was as High as God's. Nobody could contend his word, to do so would be suicide. He already had half of the Poles executed, and her old Governess the Countess Salisbury, had been arrested as well three years ago because she was the mother of her childhood friend Reginald Pole, a man her father had tried to kidnap from Rome so he could be brought to his justice.

Thank God, Mary always prayed, that Reginald was safe in Rome. His mother however was not. Because of Phillip's growing friendship, something she didn't approve, with the Archbishop Cranmer and the Master Secretary, she had found out that Salisbury was surprisingly doing well, considering her age. Phillip told her that it was risky to send a letter to Lady Salisbury, but she could send a message through one of the Guards.  
She had asked Phillip if that was even possible -won't they get in trouble?

Phillip had shaken his head and said no. He was serious about this, like Mary he thought that what the King was doing was wrong, but there he was making friends with Cromwell and worse with that Heretic Cranmer -she thought bitterly.

She brought her hand to her forehead again _-In the name of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit ..._ she said in perfect Latin. Thinking of that Heretic was as unholy as the friendship that Phillip was forming with those Heretics.

Her husband would not be back for another hour or another day.

These days he was busy talking with Cranmer and with other members at Court.

She remembered when her husband had entered Court asking her permission to Court her. He had been very shy back then. It seemed like centuries when they'd met. Their near one year old marriage had seemed to Mary like an Eternity. She felt she knew Phillip her whole life, yet the same could not be said for the impression he had of her.

Phillip was sweet, an honorable man but like most men of honor he was a romantic who thought in absolutes, that is he thought of Mary as the constant damsel in distress in need of saving, calling to her Blue Prince to take her from her haunted Castle where the Dragon was her captor.

She had been captive from the Dragon for nearly eight years, until He came, Phillip. Like a dashing Knight he had rescued her, he had rid her from her father and her other captors, yet unlike fairy tales in which they moved to his Enchanting castle, Phillip stayed here first it had been her, and now it was to please her father.

After his cousin died he had changed, as all the Court did as well. He became more active in Court life. No longer was he the shy, scared and timid young Duke of a few words, instead he had become into an extrovert Courtier who saw her father's Court as a place of opportunity, and it was but it was also a place where there was constant danger -but in spite of giving Phillip the warning, he still went to Court more often than she did, and to her chagrin he had begun to show great respect for the new Queen, Kitty Howard whom he justified to Mary that it would do them no good if they were on the Queen's black list.

Mary said nothing but nod her head, it was what she constantly did these days, just nod her head at whatever Phillip did or said at Court.

Court had become for Phillip like his second home. He had found a thrill there, and he had been learning, much to her distaste, by the greatest liar of all, Master Secretary Cromwell, her greatest enemy.

In no time as Mary began to doze off, she let her hand travel to the pendant that was on her favorite dress. The color of Royalty, purple, Phillip had ordered a new pendant on it. This was very different from all the others, this had a special inscription around the multicolor enamel. In German it read _"Angel of Wales"_ and behind those words were the figures of Artemis and Apollo, the Twin Deities of the hunt, music and arts respectively.

She had once been revered as the Princess of Wales, her father's beloved, his Crown jewel, Governess of Wales. Her fortress, Ludlow located at the Welsh Marches had been her Kingdom, everything from the I can see in the County of Wales had been hers, and her father had let her have it. She had been this close to being invested Princess of Wales, this close -she thought- but along came a spider, whom she later learned came from a family of snakes and scorpions. They had taken everything she had ever loved from her. Her mother, her Kingdom, her title.

Her mother had once called her _"the Angel of Wales"_ \- and she never knew if that was a dream or if it really happened, but a similar pendant had been given to her. It was the same as the one Phillip had given her, except it was a locket containing Athena at the center and the sun hovering above her, the same inscription only in Latin -" _Angel of Wales"_

As the years passed though, Mary became convinced that the memory had been all a dream. Her mother had never given her that locket, because that locket didn't exist, simple as that. Proof that was her mother's will. She had given Mary furs, her Cross and her rosary, all which were taken from her by Cromwell and her father who said they were of too much value to her. What had happened to those furs? -Mary often wondered. Probably they had been sold off or kept by her father to warm his bed and the back of his many Mistresses.  
Whatever had happened to them, she hoped that if they were still on his possession, that he would never pass them unto that Harlot Kitty Howard, or even to her sister.

God knew she loved her sister, she had taken care of her as Edward like she was her own child, but those furs were her mother's legacy to her, she could not let anyone who had been related to her enemies, especially those Harlots, cousins, have them. It would be an insult to her memory.

As darkness finally took her, her hand rested on the pendant that was on her chest, her fingers around where the Inscription lay -Angel of Wales in Phillip's native tongue. This might not be the locket, and the enamel certainly wasn't either, what she had dreamed of many times, but all the same the inscription made Mary travel back to happier times where she had been carefree and her only major worry had been her studies.

* * *

Phillip arrived late as expected to his Mansion at Hunsdon. Elizabeth was already asleep and it was a shame because he had brought her something that he hoped she might have liked. It was a new book on the Reformation, written by no one other than her long time supporter of her mother's and her, Cranmer.

In spite of what people accused Cranmer of being a bystander, Phillip had seen the other side that most people avoided.

His enemies, (among those his wife was sadly included), liked to think of him as an opportunist or as a fanatic, but Phillip saw differently, he saw the Archbishop for what he was: a man. Nothing especial, no evil or good in him. His soul was just as corruptible as the Bishop of Rome's or the King of England, or anyone's for that matter. He did what he had to survive. While men like Wriothlesley were pressuring the King to burn more "Heretics", Cranmer and other loyal Reformers had been working hard to save their fellow men and women, something Phillip had seen Catholics rarely do.

With the exception of his wife, he had not met to this day a single honorable Catholic, one he could be proud to call his friend or ally. His wife was the only woman, and person of that corrupt and decadent Church who had been honest and honorable. She embodied everything her religion was supposed to embodied, and she was a loyal Christian unlike most Ladies of her Faith.

His wife was a blessing to his life, she was his miracle and the baby that awaited them in her womb was another blessing. He didn't care if the child was a girl or a boy, as long as he or she was healthy, and that Mary, he constantly prayed, would survive the pains of childbirth.

The reason why he had been doing a greater effort to become a constant at Court, was for Mary to be back into her father's good graces. It was doing them no good that Mary still refused to speak more than two words to the new Queen. He had been doing the introductions for her, but that was no good and could only get him so far. The Queen required Mary's personal greeting and favor, and if Mary didn't give it to her then being the frivolous and capricious girl that she was, Kitty Howard would complain to the King of England and his reaction was something Phillip feared more than the Queen's.

He gave a deep breath. Mary wasn't the only who felt she had a lot to lose, so did Phillip. Unlike Mary, Elizabeth, his sister in law had been showing great favor to the Queen. In parts, he suspected because Elizabeth was being lavished with great gifts and restored to her father's good graces thanks to her Aunt and stepmother. Though Kitty Howard was only five years younger than his wife, she seemed to understand Elizabeth better, and Elizabeth got along with her. Phillip did not prohibit Elizabeth from traveling to Court with him. Court had done Elizabeth a lot of good, not only had the girl gotten her confidence in herself back, but also -she had told Phillip- she felt like she was her father's rose again, his Tudor Rose.

Phillip sighed, if only Mary would learn that it did **her** no good to keep acting rebellious against her father.

As he entered their chambers, he saw that Mary was already fast asleep in the armchair next to their study. He put the book next to the Classics she had been reading earlier while waiting for him.

She was heavy, yet he found strength to carry her to their bed, once he put her there he took off his boots and set himself on the bed next to her. It had been a long day, he felt. Tomorrow, he hoped the day would be shorter now that he was with her.

He closed his eyes, but not before wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you" he said softly and then he fell asleep.

* * *

A new day had come, the sun smiled at them. Mary was the first to wake up. She looked at her surroundings and found that she was on her bed.

Was it a dream? She thought she had heard Phillip come into her rooms shortly after she had dozed off. It must have been a short lived memory because as her vision cleared up she saw no sign of Phillip anywhere.

_'Phillip ...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realize Lady Salisbury or Margaret Pole dies close to the year 1538-1539 in the series, however I decided to go more with history on the Poles' execution, sort of, because some things will be changed to fit the storyline.
> 
> *The year as Mary is only days away from her delivery is 1541, March.
> 
> *Off topic the quote I put from Anton Szander La Vey I felt I had to since it fits into the complex relation if you can call it that of POB and Mary. Before you start I suggest you read more on Anton, those who know more about this modern philosopher they will know that his "Satanic" movement has nothing to do with religion, in fact the Chruch of Satan are only for atheists, though I don't agree some of their philosophy I recommend reading on Anton S. La Vey's books because they are mostly a critique of every aspect of our society.


	12. Through a Child's Eyes

" _Sometimes hate can brew surprises, but not as big as love._

_You would think love is the best tonic for hate, yet_

_the big tonic to absolve the soul from hate can be fear of the unknown"_

**The Question by Anonymous**

 

* * *

 

Phillip, why wasn't he back? Mary inwardly asked herself.

This was not fair that he should miss this day. This day was very close to the birth of their child, their first child and potential heir after Edward to the Crown of England, that is if her father failed to get a Duke of York from Kitty Howard.

All her hopes were that this child was indeed a son. Though Chapuys had said that if it was a son he would be used by Cranmer and her husband to give her father another Heretic heir, she had already made plans for when the child would be born. Not that believed Chapuys' words, but in any case she wanted to make sure that the child would not miss on anything. It was inevitable that her son or daughter be raised amongst Heretics, but he or she could also be instructed in the Catholic Religion.

Her favorite and closest confidant of her maids Susan Clavereiux had already found for her child a tutor. His name was Sir Walter Graham, he was an old supporter of her mother and he often was found in the Highest circles at Court. He would be an excellent Teacher, not only he knew about the Court's machinations, but he was also a great speaker of Latin, Prose, Greek and Catalan, just like she had been. In fact whe Mary had looked at him after Susan had made the introductions, she had been reminded of her old tutor Master Juan Luis Vives.

Thinking back to her older days as the carefree Princess made her melancholic. She missed those days, back then she had been an extrovertid girl who'd had no worries except focusing on her studies with Master Vives. She wished he could still be alive so she could tell him how grateful she was for all the education she had received thanks to him.

His book was the only thing she had ;eft of him. If she had a daughter she would definitely pass on his book to her as her most precious heirloom.

She leaned back and let herself relax in her armchair. It had been one week since Phillip had paid a quick visit before he left for xourt again. This time the court had been moved to Nonsuch Palace one of her father's major Palaces. It had been his pride, Mary wasn't particularly fond of that Palace since the money used for its constructions had been blood money. Her father had said he used his own money but truth of the matter was he paid it off with what he had stolen from the monasteries.

Stolen was a big word, but no better word could describe the actions done by her father and that man, Cromwell when they had bled the monasteries dry from their treasures. Just thinking of that sent a cold shiver ran through Mary's spine. Luckily it died down thanks to the fire that had been warming her chambers.

She reeled to her left as she heard the heavy footstalls that were coming her way.

Susan came in panting and nearly out of breath.

"What is it Susan?" She asked to her favorite maid concerned.

The same concern was written all over Susan's face. These news couldn't wait, she felt she'd had to tell her Mistress now. "His Excellency has just arrived with his man servant Fleming, he has something very urgent to tell you"

Mary perked her head up at Susan. What could be so important that it could not wait till morning?

"Can it wait?"

"No milady" said Susan slowly, she was having trouble catching her breath. When she'd heard the news from the Imperial Ambassador himself she knew that even if it bothered her Mitress, she had to hear it.

"Susan calm down you are going to faint. Calm down now tell what cannot wait until morning?" Mary demanded.

Susan nearly fainted, she wanted nothing more than to tell Mary herself, but it would be better if she heard it from its messenger.

"I think His Excellency better tell you" Susan said giving a long lasting sigh as she opened the door completely and there behind Susan was His Excellency gripping his black walking stick.

He wasted no time in entering the Duchess' chambers. Mary looked at Susan who nodded and left quickly to her own chambers where she hoped she could resume her good night sleep, though with Mary and the Imperial Ambassador in the same castle and in the same room that was highly unlikely.

Meanwhile Mary and the Imperial Ambassador looked at each other, dark gray eyes met clear blue.

As if the Ambassador had read her thoughts regarding his visit he answered -"The reason why I had to come now and this could not wait until morning is because your cousin, my Master is consdering to annul your marriage. Your marriage to a heretic cannot be recognized by the church and while you bear your father's last name, you are still considered a Tratasmara and it would be shameful that one of his family be seen in a heretical liaison -"

He didn't get to finish the sentence as Mary stood up abruptly from her chair and walked to His Excellency, her eyes burning with rage and feeling a deep sense of betrayal in her heart.

"So my child, you are telling me that my child is going to be made a bastard like I have been a bastard?"

Silence.

In that moment he wished he could have the will power to let his eyes wander elsewhere, because it was becoming very hard for him to face the pain and anguish in her dark blue eyes.

Rolling over his calm expression Mary continued questioning him. "So is that it? I am on my own again? Surely if you could convince the Emperor to see that a son from his youngest cousin could bring many benefits, he could unite the heretic German territories with England if my father never has a Duke of York. He could be a great King, I assure you he would be a good ruler, he would not make the mistakes as my father ... I have already chosen a tutor for him he is of the old faith" Mary's frantic voice died down as she felt the hot liquid that were her tears on her cheeks.

She shook her head vigorously.

No, no and no!

This could not happen to her!

She had faced desertion from her father, her mother's so called friends and allies, but never from her own mother's family, never from **him**. Looking away from the Ambassador's neutral expression she reeled around turing her back on him.

She would not let him see her this way, broken and crying.

She had never cried for anyone, never. She would not start now but it was too late though she did not have her mirror in front of her, she knew that her eyes were completely red.

Her hands went to her stomach. As if on cue sensing what was ailing its mother, she felt her child kick her harder and then it died down when both mother and child heard Chapuys' voice.

"Your Grace the deed has not been done ..." Chapuys said trying to reassure her.

"But it is only a matter of time before the Pope grants my cousin what he wants? Do you think I don't know that my cousin controls the Courts of all Europe including the Pope's." Mary snapped.

She waited for a reply from Chapuys when it didn't come she continued her voice now dripping with venom. "Maybe my father was right to break from Rome. How much different is my cousin than my father? Both control men's souls, both have the authority to say who can and cannot be saved? Tell me Excellency just how much different are you than Marillac or any other opportunist that has set foot in this Country?"

Chapuys eyes went wide.

How could she accuse her of that? He was no innocent, no white dove, he had done many thing he **should** have been ashamed, but very little plagued him because in the end the things had done had been the only means that had kept him alive all this time in the most corrupt court in Europe.

She had good reason to be angry at him, but to compare him with Marillac or her cousin, who had so far been her only powerful ally in this whole mess since Anne Boleyn, was just ridiculous!

"You are wrong Your Grace your cousin has been there for you since your mother was displaced. Do not forget the mouth that fed you with support when you signed the Oath, when you were in Court, when you were sad and on the verge of collapsing in tears after your two late stepmother's deaths. Who was there for you when your father remarried Kitty Howard, who was there to convince you not to anger him, who was there arranging marriages with every Imperial match that **I** could find?" His voice was now heard throughout all of Hunsdon but he was too taken by his own anger at her words that he didn't stop and he advanced towards the Duchess who was silent. "Who was there with you when you spent your days alone and with no one but Mistress Susan or the Lady Elizabeth? Who?"

He had not realized his mistake as he finished. He had not meant the Emperor, he had said I, he meant himself. The one who had been there with her twice waiting in the parlor for both her late stepmother's when they had gone into labor. He had been there to comfort her when her mother died, when her stepmother died, so it seemed very ungrateful of her that she accused him of being another one of the wolves at court.

Mary reeled to face him, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as she digested everything he said.

"You ... all the while ... you said you were following orders" She said in a low voice.

"What?" Chapuys asked not fully comprehending the meaning of her words.

"Nothing" Mary said regaining her posture. She sighed and looked up to meet his eyes again. "Please leave"

"Madame I think we should -"

Mary interrupted him her coldness returning. "There is nothing we should discuss, now please leave. I am not asking you"

Chapuys had no choice but to heed the Duchess' orders. As he was on his way out he stopped. He wheeled around and saw his lady's hand on her stomach while the other gripping the chair next to her for support as she was having trouble mantaining her balance.

"Your Grace?" Chapuys asked concerned.

Mary did not answer him, instead her hand clutched her stomach even harder and her open mouth emitted a loud scream followed by a quick gasp.

"Excellency" she said in alarm.

Chapuys acted fast as he saw the spill of water on the floor. Clutching his cane tighter he went by the Duchess' side and helped her to the bed. She was breathing heavily, she felt a terrible pain in her abdomen. She knew she was going into labor, but the pain and the fact that she didn't feel her child moving, she looked up at the Ambassador her eyes filled with worry. Did this mean she lost the child?

Chapuys had not time to attend the Duchess anymore, he quickly walked ignoring the pain that had shot through his leg to the door. He opened it quickly and yelled

"Quickly! Her Grace has gone into labor!"

All the Household was awoken by the Ambassador's screams and their Mistress, the Duchess.

They ran quickly, her ladies to her side.

Dr. de la Sa and the midwives who had been staying with her since she had gone into confinement were rushed quickly by Susan to her side.

Though it was not the place of the Ambassador to be, he felt he could not leave his lady. And his lady did not want him to leave, before the Physician, Susan and the midwives came to her side she had asked Chapuys to stay.

"Milady it would not be prudent for me-" but he did not get to finish her sentence as Mary's hand reached for his. Chapuys flinched in pain as he felt his lady's nails dig through his skin. "Please" she had said, "stay I-" she had screamed louder as another contraction came.

Afraid of her pain and never having witnessing firsthand the pains of childbirth, he stayed for her. When the Physicians and the midwives came objecting to his presence, Mary ordered them to ignore his presence and assist her instead for a safe delivery of her child.

The midwives had not agreed with her decision but they had no choice, she was the one paying them so they had to obey. Her ladies and Susan did their best to ignore his presence but it was difficult when he kept clutching his cane harder as he'd felt the Duchess' nails dig deeper into his skin. By the time Dr. de la Sa had told her to push and so she did, Chapuys could feel a hot, watery liquid run through the hand his lady was grabbing. He looked at his hand and saw that it was bleeding. Who could have known she possessed such force to inflict damage on another man? But he guessed it was understandable, childbirth was a serious business and a deadly one.

He didn't want to admit it, but all the while that the Duchess had gone in labor, he had been very afraid. He felt like it had been hours and he hadn't been wrong. The window in the right side of her room that wasn't covered by curtains showed the sun beginning to rise.

"Milady you can do it! Mary... please push!" Susan urged her best friend.

Mary screamed as she gave another push. She felt herself weary every time she pushed, she had been witnessed to the pains of childbirth, but she never imagined they were this terrible!

She became scared as she saw Dr. de la Sa exchange worried glances with the midwives.

Chapuys did not miss their worried glances either. He wanted to ask them what was exactly wrong with the Duchess, but he couldn't leave her side when she needed him the most. She had felt betrayed when he gave her the news about her cousin's intention to annul the marriage. It had been a miracle when she had asked him to stay, she could have asked anyone else, why him? He had asked, why had she asked him when she had been accusing him moments of being nothing more than an opportunist and comparing him to Marillac?

The former Princess never failed to surprise him.

His gaze fell on the former Princess whose forehead was drenched in cold sweat.

He opened his mouth to speak but the voice of her Physician who had gone to his side didn't let him. "Excellency a word if I may?"

Chapuys did not want to abandon the Lady's side, but her eyes were half closed and Susan's constant voice urging her to stay awake, he didn't think she would notice his absence.

He let go of her hand, very soon another one of her maids came to take his place.

Chapuys a man who never missed anything asked the physician when they were out of ear reach what was really going on -"A pregnancy like this cannot be good" he said seriously.

Dr. de la Sa was an old man, older than Chapuys, as old as Dr. Linacre. He had seen many things and assisted very little women in childbirth, yet his short experiences with the women he had assisted had taught him the necessary knowledge to recognize the signs that indicated trouble. Chapuys did not doubt the man's ability, it was just the way he had looked at the midwives and the fact that they were in the far corner that made him worry yet he did not show emotion as he prepared himself to hear the inevitable.

"No it is not Excellency. Like with her two late stepmother's birth the child doesn't seem to come out, it has been a long time and if this continues like this I am going to be forced to perform a cutting -"

Chapuys did not hear the rest of the physician's sentence.

He had feared it would have come to this. He should not have been here, his lady was right, the news could have waited. This was all his fault, he had caused her to go into labor and now because of him she and the child could die.

"Excellency" He was brought back to reality by the physician's voice. "I have to ask you, I would ask Her Grace or her maid Susan, but they would not know how to answer and the Duke is not here neither is the Lady Elizabeth, they are in Court and -"

"What? Speak now what do you want me to do?" Eustace asked exasperated that the physician seemed to be going on the verge of a full mental breakdown. He was supposed to be the doctor, the one who was supposed to be calm and show restraint and yet Chapuys since the labor began had shown better restraint.

The doctor met the cold clear blue eyes of Eustace Chapuys. If all went bad the Duke and the King would lay all blame on him, but he had taken an Oath to serve God and his patients and he had to obey that Oath.

"You are the only one who can make a decision. I can't cut or do anything, I have to know whose life will be my priority. Do you understand what I am saying Excellency?" Dr. de la Sa asked becoming deadly serious.

In all his years of self control, Chapuys never imagined he would be on the verge of breaking down. As he heard the words of Dr. de la Sa he pondered on the big decision that was being laid at his shoulder.

He suddenly felt like God, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. The Princess' life and her child's was being entrusted to him, he should chose her son it would be what the King, what she would have wanted yet looking past the physician's shoulder as his lady gave another howl of pain he came to a quick decision. May God and all the Saints forgive him.

He turned back to Dr. de la Sa. "Save the Duchess, whatever happens save the Duchess" He said in a hurried voice and Dr. de la Sa nodded gravely walking back slowly towards the Duchess.

His lady would never forgive him, he would never forgive himself either. But it was a necessary sacrifice, not only for the good of his master and the Empire, but he also hadpersonal reasons for having opted to saving her life instead of the child's. If she were to die than there would be no more need for him in England. He had endured much of his enemies only because she had been there, she had been his sunlight and he couldn't let his sunlight be taken be obscured by Death's shadow.

His worries were interrupted once more, not by his Lady's loud screaming but by the wailing of a newborn.

They had not been aware while Chapuys was playing God with the former Princess and her (then) unborn child's life that he as the doctor had failed to notice that the midwives had been screaming, and not only them but Susan as well, for Mary to push one more time for her child's sake.  
Mary had done as they told her to, unaware of the dangerous conversation between the doctor and Chapuys that were deciding her fate and that of her child's.

The physician completely perplexed of how the Duchess had finally managed to deliver the child after long hours of labor, rushed to the midwife who was holding the newborn in her arms.

Chapuys was amazed too as the physician by the turn of events. He had been ready to bring his left hand to his forehead when he head the wailing of the newborn. He clutched his cane tighter as he walked fast as he could, with the pain of his gout shooting through his leg, to the Duchess' side.

A miracle, he could not help but regard it as and he mentally began to thank God as he saw that the Duchess was still conscious.

Mary's eyes had widened at the sound of her newborn. She had heard Susan's whisper earlier, barely audible when the other midwives had been screaming, all urging her to push one more time, for the child they all said, and for her child she had. She had never felt happier of hearing another's wailing. when the midwife had announced to Mary that the head had finally become visible, Mary feeling that she had to push harder, didn't have to when the child as if sensing its mother's distress seemed to have come off on its own.

After that it all seemed blur, everything happening so fast. The midwives took the child and began to clean it, on in particular, their chief Mary noticed by the way the other midwives behaved around her, had taken full charge of her newborn after the others finished cleaning it.  
She then felt Chapuys hand resting on hers. She looked up to meet his gaze. She hadn't realized as she saw her maid leaving her side that he had left too yet she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him for it was joyous occasion, the birth of her first child.

Chapuys feeling her hand squeezing his, this time gentler could not help but smile, not for the child she had just delivered, but because she had pulled through the arduous labor.

Her first concern after the birth of her child was to know if it was a boy or a girl.

She looked back at the midwife who was holding her child, "What is it?" She asked frantically. They all depended on her, her husband, her father, the whole Kingdom to bear them another heir after Edward.

The midwife holding her babe looked at the Duchess, a smile forming on her face as she said. "Tis is a son"

Nothing made Chapuys more happy than to see her color returning to her cheeks as she became more relaxed after knowing she had borne her father, her husband and England a son.

A son, she had succeeded where her mother and the Concubine failed many times. Only one wife had borne him a son, and she had not lived through it, yet she had and she could feel her strength coming back as she ordered the midwife to give her her son.

The midwife carefully laid the babe on Mary's arms.

"Thank you" Mary said looking into midwife's chocolate brown eyes. She had never seen this woman before, but she had been there by her side more than her own physician, if it hadn't been for her being attentive at every turn when her contractions had increased, she and her son would not be here. She had to know whom she was congratulating though.  
"What is your name?"

"Oh it is of no importance" the midwife said quickly but Mary shook her head vigorously.

"I insist" Commanded firmly pushing both her lips together that they formed a thin line and her gaze becoming steady as she looked deeper into the elder woman's chocolate brown eyes.

"Esther Hagen" the midwife answered her with a steady voice.

"Esther" Mary repeated her eyes surveying Esther carefully. She was the oldest of the midwives, but seemed to be the more clever of the lot. It would be wise if she were to assist her in her future pregnancies.

"Yes Your Grace"

After a long silence between the two women, Mary finally said "Call me Mary"

Esther perked her eye brows up, she was surprised by the Duchess' request, and so was the Ambassador whose eye brows were completely up as well.

"Very well then Your G-I mean Mary"

"That is better" Mary said a smile forming on her lips when she looked for the first time at her son. He seemed perfect in every way, he had the eyes of his grandmother, her mother, clear blue eyes and there was a small spec of Tudor red hair on his scalp. His cheeks were completely red tired of crying.

Chapuys saw the child briefly, he had been quite the contrary of what he initially thought he would be. He did not posses the green emerald eyes of the Duke of Bavaria or his jet black hair, he had the bluest eyes and the rosiest cheeks he had seen on a baby. His eyes reminded him as it did Mary a lot of Katherine of Aragon. And the child as if sensing another presence besides his mother close to him, looked up to meet the Ambassador's clear blue eyes.

He had been taken by the hatred he had for the child's father that he hadn't considered the possibility of his son turning much differently. The child sensing no hatred from him anymore sent a smile in his direction. Chapuys gave quick grin that later disappeared when the child's gaze returned to its mother and she in turn said "His father will be proud"


	13. Withdrawal and Facing the Inner Truth

" _The man who [merely] abstains from sense enjoyments may forget them for a time, but the taste for them will linger. That person, however, who beholds the Supreme Spirit loses the taste for anything but the Infinite"_

**~Bhagavad Gita 2:59.**

* * *

What the soul teaches us is we can run away from pleasure, we can run away from all the negative energies on this Earth, but one thing we can never run away from is: love. Love is a powerful force that can create, destroy and most important transform itself from purity into something evil, something sinful when the person you realize you love is unattainable to your reach.

That is how Chapuys was feeling right now, though he would never admit it.

She was holding in her hands the precious baby of her _husband_ , her _husband_! For a moment there when the baby had looked on his eyes he had imagined himself holding him like he was his father.

 _Snap out of it_ –So far his stay in Hunsdon had brought him nothing but pain. The first question he asked himself, after the former Princess began to rock her son singing to him in Spanish, was _"Do I like suffering?"_

What increased more his suffering, he wanted to ask himself, seeing his lady basking in the sunlight of her son's presence or seeing her son staring at her with the shape of his father's eyes with his grandmother, the late Queen Katherine's light blue eyes.

He had the blues eyes and he would have had no problem looking at those eyes had it not been for one small factor, the shape of those eyes, they were his father's not his mother. For someone as observant as Eustace, he knew that the boy was more Phillip's son than Mary's. He wanted attention, he wanted everyone to love him and the more he began to smile at his mother, the intention on the boy's was clear, he wanted the same thing his father had, capture his mother's heart.

The discernment of this truth led to the faint recognition of his own feelings for the Duchess.

The dark voices in his head belonging to doubt and temptation asked him, _"What increases your suffering Eustace, and what, on the other hand lessens it?"_

Nothing he wanted to say but he couldn't find a real answer to explain for his suffering.

What was it that really angered him? What was it that caused him to be angry at a child, a mere innocent child?

 _The child of Phillip of Bavaria_ he thought wryly. The child who was going to be recognized as another bastard, the child that had nearly killed the former Princess, and, most importantly, the child who could one day (if there was no Duke of York) become King of England and continue His Majesty's heretical and tyrannical rule.

He and his master, the Emperor, could not allow that. That is why Charles I had told Eustace to give his cousin a warning that her marriage was not going to be recognized by the pope, and if the marriage was not valid by his Holiness then this little boy would be nothing more than a bastard, not recognized by the rightful church to inherit the throne. His mother was widely recognized and still respected, in spite of her "union" to a heretic, as the true heir of England after Edward.

She could inherit the throne, become Queen but not her son or any other offspring she may have by the Duke of Bavaria.

The fog of delusion began to grow heavier on Eustace's eyes as he heard the baby's giggles and the mother's.

He wanted to strike out at the world in anger for not giving him what his master wanted, what **he** wanted. He could not accept the situation in England -he could not accept England in general, period!

He could not accept that the former Princess, a true Princess was in the hands of the heretic a man so beneath her and that she was reduced to be a mere duchess when in his opinion she should be the one who carries the title of Princess of Wales, and Duchess of Cornwall not of Bavaria. It was she who should be her father's heir apparent and not the sickly, weak, frail boy that was her brother the three year old Edward Tudor.

The boy was in his opinion another child of the reformation, a heretic who would only cause suffering to his lady. His lady was intelligent, witty and very court savvy but nothing would prepare her for her brother's or God forbid if the King were to have another son, Duke of York's rule. She had great strength but she also had great weaknesses like not knowing when to say no or when to kneel before her elders. She was proud and at times arrogant like her late mother, the poor, wretched and sad Queen Katherine –a woman Eustace had nothing but respect for in his heart.

His lady would not submit to any heretic's rule even if those where her father and brother. Alas though, she believed that her brother would never make her suffer like her father. (How wrong she was) She believed in the goodness of every human. Chapuys wanted to laugh at that.

She was very naïve, he had seen most of the world, been to many courts, done many things and if he could describe everything and everyone he saw with one word it would be: hypocrisy.

People were hypocrites, they all had large egos and they acted on their egos more than their brains.

The duchess' brother was the son of Henry VIII after all, a man who in his opinion was not worthy to be called King. He acted like a pampered child, such a behavior in a grown man was not only shameful it was ridiculous, but more ridiculous was the attitude of the English people. They worshipped and admired their King like he was some sort of God. He could take away their freedom (to most he already had), take away their women (his favorite sport) and their lives and they would still admire him. He would bring them more death and they will love him for that as they will love his son and the Seymours when they take over the Country after his death.

* * *

" _The man of perfect self-control is able to act in this world unaffected by it. Inwardly free from attraction and repulsion, he has attained unshakable inner calmness"_

**~Bhagavad Gita, 2:64**

* * *

His attentions were still focused on the _lovely_ display of affection between mother and son.

He felt a huge knot being formed in his throat. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breath, and when the former Princess bend down to her son's forehead to kiss him he realized that this was too much he had to get out of the room before he ran out of air.

The Duchess spoiled his plans when she spotted he was halfway to the door.

"Excellency" She called.

Chapuys didn't want to reel around to face her, but he had to, her voice was full of curiosity and happiness.

He reeled, and he faced her. They locked their eyes together, there pale blue against dark blue they got a glimpse of what the other was feeling at the moment.

Mary could see in His Excellency's eyes disappointment and failure.

Failure she knew why, he had come with the intention to convince her that her marriage to Phillip was unlawful and that she had to leave him before she angered her cousin and the Pope more, but she wasn't about to when she had just delivered a healthy son, and a healthy Tudor Bavarian heir to the English crown.

It pained her that her cousin was making her decide between her husband or her religion. If she hadn't been pregnant with her son she would probably decide her religion, but now that she had a newborn in her arms she wasn't about to leave him or Phillip to let her cousin and the Pope declare him a bastard.

From her union with Phillip she had borne a son, a healthy heir to the kingdom of Bavaria, maybe some day to the Palatinate itself and if her father didn't give her another male sibling then she had just borne the next King of England after Edward. Edward was very young and easy to manipulate by his uncles, especially by the ambitious and cunning Earl of Hertford. His health was not all that good, everyone knew that. Much as it pained her to acknowledge it, Edward would not last long and after he passed into a better life her son would be the next in line for the throne.

Chapuys came walking to the duchess' direction.

"Your Grace" he said neutrally.

In spite of what had happened, she wanted him to know that she was grateful, if it hadn't been for Chapuys she would not have delivered her son. He had been there holding her hand, and that had helped her to deliver her child. It had been his hand, his strong had that he had not let go in her toughest moments during labor that had brought her strength.

"Thank you" She said, her tone was no longer cold or apprehensive as the night before. She had nothing to show him of her gratitude but a short thank you and a small grin.

He felt like he was fifth wheeler.

 _You should go_.

He bowed and left the room quickly before Her Grace could say another word.

Mary's mouth had opened up to say something but it closed again when she saw him clutching his cane tighter and sprinting out of the room.

 _He didn't bother to say goodbye_ He had just left, no words, no expression. Had she done something wrong? –She began asking herself, but in that moment her conscience began to tell her that nothing she said or did was wrong, it should be him who should be apologizing, it was him after all who had induced the labor with that awful news, and if anyone should have said thank you it should have been him. Mary nodded inwardly. She had shown herself grateful, _perhaps too grateful_ her conscience said, to him. She had allowed him to stay in her chambers when she should have demanded he be out. For some reason she could not fathom she hadn't want him to leave her alone with the midwives and her physicians. _Why?_ She asked herself. Why not leave him, tell him never to come back, why give him thanks?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her newborn's cries. Her son had been very perceptive of his mother's worries, like his Aunt he could sense all around him. She let the smile that had been previously on her face return to calm her son.

After he stopped crying, he fell asleep at the sound of his mother's voice singing to him in Spanish.

She turned to her right where she heard Susan's voice. "What shall you name him?" Susan asked.

Mary's smile was still on her face. She hadn't thought of a name for her baby, she had been very worried about the gender of her child, his health and then when Chapuys' visit about the legitimacy of her marriage that she had totally forgot about it.

Looking back at her sleeping son and then to Susan she came to a conclusion.

"Phillip, Phillip John"

* * *

 ** _Phillip, Phillip John_** the letter read. He had a son, by God he had a son and the way his wife described him he was the most beautiful boy in all of England! Why should he say all of England, all of the world!

The discernment of this news lead Phillip to the recollection of the first memories he had of his marriage starting with the night they had consummated their marriage. Who knew that one night had been enough to get her with child?

He was proud of her, but more so he was proud of himself. Now he could go with Bavaria, march up to all his relatives' faces and show them off his son. His son, how good it sounded. That tiny spec of hope would not only unite all the German territories one day, but if God willed it he would also unite England.

England and Germany joined together by their union, their son, it was like a dream come true. They would be greater than any Empire, including the Holy Roman Empire, no one would be a match for them!

His excitement however diminishes when he reads the last part of the letter.

The letter slips from his hand as he stands there in his chambers at Greenwich paralyzed. He cannot believe it, he doesn't want to believe it.

The first faint stirring of his jealousy arisen at last, his ego finally revealed. He feels it wounded, his ego, and only one word (the bane of his existence since their last confrontation) is uttered "Eustace".

* * *

Eustace had arrived to Greenwich four days ago. Exactly four days ago the duchess had birthed a healthy son, a male heir for Bavaria and England after Prince Edward.

Eustace began to write immediately to the Emperor telling him all about it.

It had become only a matter of time before the duke and the whole court knew about it as well.

The King had been ecstatic, the duke excited as well and the Queen … Chapuys could still remember her expression, the same one a dog makes when he finds his bone stolen. Chapuys had to work very hard not to laugh when the Queen had nearly fainted. Everyone knew that the duchess and the Queen did not get along, but when the King had said that he and his wife along with the duke would travel to Hundson to visit his grandson, the Queen's cheeks had turned scarlet red with anger.

Now the former Princess not only stole her spot for praise, but she had quickly replaced her from His Majesty's heart with the birth of a son (while her womb was still hollow, no Duke of York there) and a perfectly healthy one at that in contrast with the late Jane Seymour.

Katherine Howard though, was not the only one to make a foul expression when the news was announced by the King of England. The Duke of Bavaria, Phillip Wittelsbach present in the feast in honor of his son, he had also wore an angry expression. It had started when he spotted him entering the room. The way that boy looked at him throwing deathly daggers at Eustace was pitiful. He was making a fool of himself showing his jealousy and he didn't realize it.

This was the man his lady was willing to defend, the man she had left her cousin and her church for? _How pitiful_ -he thought.

It was of no importance what state the Duke was in. From what he had seen of the Duke, he had already been informed **on every detail** of his son's birth. He had probably seethed with anger, cursed him under his breath that he had been there present with the duchess and on the birth chamber no less while he was with that brat, Lady Elizabeth, trying to make a name for himself with his friendship to Cromwell and Cranmer.

Eustace had been there where the duke had not. He had been holding his lady's hand, he had heard her screams, he had played God, nearly forsake his soul, all for her while her husband was at court taking advantage of his position and his standing amongst the heretics. If the duke wanted to blame someone, he should take one good look at the mirror.

Come what may, Chapuys had been through worse. A young man like Phillip didn't scare him, but his jealousy did. A man scorned … was more terrible than a woman.

The names however of his lady had bestowed on her son would prevent Phillip Wittelsbach from feeling scorned. She had honored him naming her son after him.

Her words still lingered with him, " _Thank you"_

Why had she said them? He had done nothing to help her. If she knew what he had been willing to do for his master and for her, to save her, she would probably never want to speak to him again.

He was still waiting for his master's letter to come back. It was important that his master could recognize the advantage of what a son of his cousin, a nephew could bring the Empire. Even if the Archbishop and the King were planning to use the boy to their advantage, the same could be done for his master and the church. He had wrote with such a passion defending the former Princess' son that by the end of the letter –when he read it he could not believe himself.

The next morning after the duke, the royal family (with the exception of the Prince that remained in his own Household) had left for Hunsdon, he opened his eyes to see Fleming at the foot of his bed, his arms crossed against his chest, observing his master with a look that revealed a profound uneasiness.

"Were you really willing to choose her life over the child's"

Chapuys' eyes widened greatly at what Fleming said.

How in all the blazes did this man find out?

As if reading his master's mind, he simply said. "I knocked on your door several times, you were muttering in your sleep and then me and Raphael began to worry when you said an I quote "save her, save her Dr. de la Sa"

Chapuys wanted to slap Fleming. How dare he come here and question him? He was a servant, he should know his position! He didn't have this problem with the others, not even Raphael was like this –and that was a surprise since Chapuys had almost expected him to be, Raphael being friends with Fleming and all.

"That is none of your business" He said sharply.

That did not stop Fleming who rolled over his master's answer, and kept pressing Chapuys until Eustace could no longer stand it anymore. The frustration, his nightmares, his lady, the duke, everything! It was like the world had gone upside down and he was the only sane person in this asylum.

"Fine Fleming" He cried "You want to know the truth if that makes you anymore comfortable? Yes I told the physician to save her and I would do it again. Another heretic would do the country no good, my master is this close to annulling the duchess' marriage so she could still be recognized as a Princess and the only heir after Prince Edward. Her son would only be stripped from her arms, think Fleming just like her you are going to be very naïve if you think he will be raised a good catholic. Only a few in court like the bishop and others are strong supporters of the true faith, the others are heretics and her son will grow to be a heretic. Now more than ever she had been displaced by the line of succession by her own son, by that man's son!"

While every word that rolled that came from his master was like venom, Fleming was not fooled.

He knew there was more to the story than Chapuys told him.

"I don't believe it" Fleming said bluntly.

Chapuys barked in laughter. This man was truly insufferable, yet he was he was one of the few people he could trust, something very rare these days especially if you took into account where you were.

Ironic that he would find completely loyalty in an Englishman more than his own countrymen.

The world was full of surprises.

The window that shone the view of England from his bedroom's left wall, told Chapuys of the dark times ahead that were coming by the storm brewing in the heavens. A storm was not rare, this country was very damp and humid especially on the Spring. You would think it would start on summer but it began on spring, seldom would it delay. He wasn't much for omens, but the way the storm was brewing, lightning beginning to flash miles away where Hunsdon was located, it seemed like God was trying to tell him that more struggles lay ahead for the Princess whom he began to pray to Him that he may spare from any more pain. God only knew the Princess' life had been nothing but pain ever since the Concubine entered her life and ruined her mother's. Her smile was like a blessing to everyone alike, heretics and catholic, she was one of the few on this God wretched island who could bring the best in everyone … including him.

Chapuys leaned back against the pillows that were behind his back. He wanted to tell Fleming that he better run but his threats would be no good. It all was because of his accursed leg, he was not the same man he was twenty years ago, he could run back then, he could get on a horse without fear of falling, but now? He was just the crippled, old and cynic man that Marillac described, that received nothing but pity from everyone, including he knew this very well because he had seen it in her eyes when she saw him for the first time with his walking stick, the Princess Mary.

What good was a man like him making threats on Fleming, when he could expose him for what he really was underneath all his cynicism and sarcasm exterior?

Every vestige of sorrow of his master's face disappeared and was replaced by anger and frustration, something Fleming had gotten used to by now.

Clearing his throat he said to his master when he looked away.

"You are very stubborn you know that … master"

Chapuys looked at Fleming. He was getting too far, he had to be stopped and he would do that now.

"Just who do you think you are to tell me these things … you think that you are the only one who has everything to loose, whose immediate resolution by your master prevents me to tell the lady I and not him sacrificed everything for, including my own health, my own happiness, that I care for her more than anything more than Island …"

"I have heard that a million times Master yet you always end your phrases with the world impossible and it is a sin, I have a duty … just how more excuses you plan to make it before you realize it is too late!"

"And what would you have me do?" Chapuys yelled back. He and Fleming were verbally beating each other, at this point they no longer cared who listened to them, especially to Chapuys whom he felt weak because Fleming had managed to bring out the worst in him, his humanity and that was something he was not willing to forgive his manservant for.

"I have risked everything, moved through every corner of this God forsake Island, even gone as far as plead to the Emperor and to Mary of Hungary to recognize her marriage to that heretic, that heretic! You think Fleming that I will ever forgive myself for that?"

"Is that why you chose to save her instead of her babe then?" Fleming inquired, "Because deep down you knew it wasn't your master you wanted to please by the birth of her future bastard, but yourself. If her son were to die it would be like killing something of him, a part of him that she would no longer have making way … for you"

Chapuys snorted. "Oh Fleming as much as I would like to keep talking and hear all your delusions my friend I have a letter to write to my master whom before you forget is your master too. I have let you off the leash too many times, it is time you remember who you are and who you work for!" Chapuys barked angrily.

Fleming clenched his fists, his master had him there, but this was far from over, yet he would let his master think he had won the war, when he had only won the battle.

"Very well … Excellency" Fleming said giving the Imperial Ambassador a mock bow and then left thinking this war was far from over. Sooner or later his master would have to acknowledge his feelings for the duchess, and the duchess would have to too.

They were both very stubborn, Fleming realized as he walked back to his quarters that he shared with Raphael.

Raphael was not there, typical, Fleming thought, he must probably be with my master right now. It made sense that Raphael was attending his master after his outburst. Of the two Fleming was the more loyal but also the more rebellious, while Raphael while loyal too he rarely said anything, it was made clear that his sole purpose in life was to serve his master he had said so himself to Fleming.

Fleming took off his boots and leaned against the pillows that were behind his back when he climbed to his bed. It was very small, very uncomfortable unlike Chapuys but he enjoyed it nonetheless. _Nothing like a good night sleep_ –Fleming thought _-to take my mind off that stubborn old man and his unhappy platonic love affair with the duchess_.

Meanwhile in the Imperial Ambassador's chamber the words of Fleming still lingered on Chapuys' mind. He tried drinking all the ale he could get his hands on after he dismissed Raphael to get them off his mind but when he was on his fifth cup he found out it was impossible.

Everything Fleming said was true, deep down he knew it but he would never admit it.

Why had he saved the former Princess, why stay here all these years? Fleming had asked, because of his master? No that could not be it, he said to himself. Because of his duty to his Empire, to his church, to his idealism then? No, of course not, he didn't believe in idealism, only fools did, he was a realist all the opposite from poets and idealists, yet as the sour taste of his medicine reached his lips, he realized that the real reason behind his long stay in England had been …

Damn it all!

He did not realize he had injured his fingers when he destroyed the (now) empty vial glass where his medicine had been moments ago. He had made his whole career based on self control and self interest and never ending loyalty to the church and the Empire! Now he was willing to throw it all away for a woman? A woman that was farther from his reach, now more than ever when he had borne her husband and England a healthy son!

She had succeeded where her mother and her late stepmother Anne of Cleves hadn't, and that more than making Chapuys happy made him feel more miserable.

He had not only failed his master, he had failed the former Princess.

How right she had been all those months ago when she had demanded him why he hadn't tried harder to push the betrothal between her and Dom Luis of Portugal? He had done everything to earn her trust, win her affection. It had all started as a game, just another mission, another ally for his master to use but the more he had gotten close to her he had realized she was more than a tool, she was a person, a very extraordinary at that.

Chapuys should have left England when he had the chance.

 _Well you had the chance when you left to Annency_ , that was true he'd had the chance when he had left to Annency and then to Antwerp. He had lived a relatively quiet life there, he had enjoyed living surrounded by God's natural beauty, by the good climate of his home in Louvian. Now that he realized his mistake, he would give anything to go back in time and stay there.

Returning to England he had found himself confronted by his worst enemy Marillac and his second worst the King of England, but now he was being confronted by an even greater problem, the former Princess.

After the birth of her son, he had found himself, on many occasions, swept off by outward temptations –and they didn't have to do with sensory pleasures found on his nightmares- the feelings of hatred and envy he had since then felt towards the King of England, his Queen, Cromwell, Cranmer and last but (certainly) not the least: Phillip of Bavaria.

He thought time would have made it easier denying his feelings for her, but it had made it worse.

The huge levels of alcohol in his body made him see the great woman he'd had served in his entire stay in England, he had easily lost to a man whom Chapuys still considered was very beneath her. She had deserved much better; she was right -he should have worked harder for her betrothal with Dom Luiz, he should have been more insistent not only to his master but to the King of England. He had confronted him once, he could have confronted him again, contrary to what people thought of him he was not afraid of an arrogant, spoiled, child like behaving monarch like Henry VIII.

He had finally realized his mistake but it was too late for regrets.

What was done there was nothing that could be done, a man like him could not live in the past for too long, he had to look towards the future while also focusing on the present.

While Chapuys walked to his desk to begin writing to the Emperor, hoping to convince his master not to declare the former Princess' child a bastard; in Hunsdon Mary was preparing herself for a goodnight sleep.

She had received a letter from her husband saying he should be on his way home with the rest of the royal family (except for Edward) any time soon.

Mary hoped she would get to see them soon, though the excitement she would have felt in the past to see her father and sister was not raised as high as her desire to see the Ambassador again. She knew he was partly guilty for her arduous labor, but unlike Phillip, he had been with her the entire time. His visit unexpected, their reactions something they had not been prepared for when her son had been born. She'd thought she had seen the look of deception on Chapuys' eyes but as soon as she thought she did it was gone in the next instant when her son locked eyes with the ambassador. The Ambassador he had not probably not noticed he had chuckled when his son began to giggle at him when they made eye contact with each other. Mary had to suppress the urge to laugh at him. He was a proud man who didn't like showing his sentimental side, but he had not become aware that his defenses had lowered by her son's pale blue eyes.

Her son's eyes, Mary remembered seeing them for the first time, they were the bluest eyes Mary had ever seen. There was not Wittelsbach in him, hardly any Tudor, she was proud to see more of her mother in her son. She was a little apprehensive of this after the midwife Esther (who had accepted her invitation to stay as long as she would be needed) and the rest had cleaned him. A son with Tratasmara looks? That could only spell trouble to her father who no doubt must still feel resentment towards the Emperor and her mother. It was no secret that every time her father saw her, he would flinch or blink twice to make sure that he wasn't the image of his true wife's ghost coming to haunt him.

Lately he had been getting closer to Elizabeth. Mary didn't know what to feel about this. She supposed she should feel glad, after all, she had been fighting for Elizabeth's reinstitution at Court since the girl had been left orphaned by her sentenced (traitorous) mother. But the fact that their stepmother (a title she didn't think Kitty Howard deserved, the woman was nearly six years younger than Mary, she could have been her sister!) and her aunt Kitty Howard favored Elizabeth above all the royal children bothered Mary tremendously. It was no secret Mary's opinions of the new "Queen" of England, and the feeling the woman had for her was mutual. They had nothing in common except the bad blood of the late Anne Boleyn, something that made Mary hate Kitty more, the fact that she was directly related to Anne Boleyn. Her father had been Anne Boleyn's mother's brother and that made them first cousins, almost sister –and they would have passed as sisters for they had possessed the same frivolity, and the same lack of grace of stoicism that her mother and her two late stepmothers, Jane Seymour and Anne of Cleves possessed.

This should be the woman her husband should by no means support yet he did. He said it was important they showed respect to the Queen of England.

Queen of England? –she had argued to Phillip, she had not been crowned. Her father wanted to take no chances, he would not have another anointed Queen until she could provide him with a male heir, a Duke of York and so far Katherine Howard had not done that, and she hoped she never would for that would push her and her son far behind the succession.

It was only a matter of time, she told herself, before her father recognized the error of his ways and restored her, now that she had given him a grandson, and his Kingdom a heir he would have no choice but to restore her, surely he would –Mary hopefully wished.

Lying on her bad, she prepared to close her eyes. It was the fourth day, her husband and the rest of her family would not arrive until tomorrow or possible later next week. Whatever the day she would be ready to receive them and so would her son.

* * *

Two souls slept sharing the same nightmare, tossing and turning in their bed they dreamt of the tower, of everyone that had gone through there to be executed. They saw the Princes in the tower –Mary's granduncles- Sir Thomas Moore, Bishop Fisher, Anne Boleyn and last but not least they saw an obscure figure covered by the shadows walking to the wooden platform where she would soon meet her end.

Mary and Chapuys unaware they were in the same place at the same time of their nightmare, pushed through the crowds to see who it was that was going to be executed, but as soon as they made it to the front the executioner had already raised his sword and flung at the poor woman's head. The head came rolling down the platform, the people cleared out in fright as the head rolled in their direction but it finally stopped (to Mary's relief who thought it would never stop rolling) at Mary's feet. As soon as the head stopped Mary screamed in fright. Two dark grey eyes, her eyes she realized, were staring directly at her, the mouth hanging completely open with its pale lips completely broken by teeth marks.

Mary's own face stared back at her, there was not a look of shock or fear in her severed head but sadness. The real Mary that was shocked seeing her own head staring directly at her began to run, she heard the screams of "traitor" and "temptress" from the crowd …

She was this close to escape the angry mob when she felt herself bump against someone making her fall backwards.

 ** _"Milady"_** She looked up. _That voice_ , she recognized it immediately, even if his face was covered by the shadows she knew who he was … _Eustace Chapuys._

He extended his hand out to her begging her to take it, but before she could the dream was interrupted by a huge wave of lightning that made them both wake up.

 _An omen_ … they both realized, _a terrible one_ in the form of a nightmare that God had sento the them to warn them of what they would be up agaisnt. But, they both thought in unision even if they were on different parts on England, Mary in Hunsdon and Eustace in Greenwich, could they be sure this visions were from God and not from some other entity like the Devil? How could they know, Jesus said never to doubt the Lord but these were very dangerous times they lived in, with the King's paranoia and Mary's uncertain postion with her son in her father's Court and her cousin's Imperial one, Chapuys thought that this was the Devil's work trying to scare him, and drive him away from her side.  
In the end they chose not to listen and very soon the next morning they woke up, they forgot about the dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it I will be very interesting in your reviews in feedback however I will begin introducing more of the historical characters in future chapters like Kitty Howard, Marillac, Elizabeth's tutor who became her tutor in 1548 however I will introduce him four years before that so roughly around 1544, also other historical characters like Bishop Wriothlesly.
> 
> *I believe that though this is AU many of you say might say that this is good since we don't have to focus too much on the historical aspect, but I think otherwise that we should focus on the historical background since we are not only trying to create a good story for ourselves we are trying to get reviewers and credibility and what better credibility than adding history making the story seem realistic even if it is as we have established AU.
> 
> *Margaret Pole's execution will be delayed, her fate might change but I highly doubt that given Henry's paranoia which I believed started after Thomas More and Anne Boleyn's death only make it worse, by 1541 it was already beyond any repair so taking into account that he might not be so merciful to her.


	14. Stranger

History will be what we make it. I am sure of it. I have heard many express themselves as owners of their own destiny, but whenever I hear this I want to laugh because no one can really say he, she or they are owners of their fate when they use words such as fate or destiny.

To be completely separated from the ties of the church, and I mean any church you have to believe in the God inside yourself. After all did not God say that we were made in His image, by His hands? So therefore we must assume that we are all part of him, and we can be as great as Him.

I closed down the book of Gnesis. When I was a child it used to be my favorite book, now I am not so sure if I should call it my favorite. When you are a kid it is very easy to have control of everything, you imagine yourself a Prince going off in your valiant horse, off to rescue the Damsel in distress! But then you grow up and you see so many obstacles, you see the sky, yes the sky, God that is working against you. Your father, his memory completely over shadowing everything you do and then there is your mother, she does not stop to tell you that everything you do is wrong.

That your father was a better man than you, she keeps shoving her religion down your throat, his achievements too. Before you know it you become not a person but an extension of your father's shadow and much as you try to get away from it, you can't. I haven't got away from my father's shadow and since my mother died I have only felt his shadow closer to mine.

 _Got mitts uns_ -my father's favorite phrase when he was Count Palatine. It was said that he administered his lands with an iron fist, and worked with the Elector Palatine with great loyalty. Nothing he did was not to benefit the Germans, the people loved and remembered him as a just, strict and fair ruler. I wish I could be remembered one day the same as my father, but I am not going to blind myself and say that I will be better than him, that is impossible.

My father was a great man, and I don't intend to overshadow his accomplishments with mine. I want to separate mine from my father, I want to be remembered as Count Palatine, Phillip Duke of Bavaria, not the son of the Count Palatine. I have tried so hard since I went to war with the Turks on the siege of Vienna to make a name for myself, and I have come very far since then.

Now I am very close to Cranmer and Cromwell, though I ambition to come closer to His Majesty. I just don't want to be his son in law, I want to be his favorite for it would benefit Bavaria and my wife as well.

Thinking back of my wife, I imagine her sitting down with our son, our precious son Phillip John. I would have preferred just Phillip but I understand why she also named John, it was the name of her mother's favorite brother after all, Juan de Asturias ain Spanish.

Got mitts uns, I think once more. She has done what her mother always failed to do, bring forth a boy to the Tudor Dynasty and to Bavaria. I know that my relatives in Germany will be pleased. They always thought of me dying a poor bachelor, now my son will prove them wrong.  
The situation in Bavaria has not been very good. I left some good administrators there. By good I knew they would do a better job than the last ones, these were people that not only had been dear friends of my mother and brother, but also they were capable and responsible people who had sworn their loyalty to me. I t don't trust them, but I have to rely that their reports about my Kingdom are accurate since I am very far from home.

Bavaria is a great Kingdom, many people in my family wish to have it, hence the hope that I would die a broke bachelor like my brother with no heirs of my own. It is all strategic, I tried to explain to Mary, whoever controls Bavaria controls a great part of Germany. Of course my wife does not understand me, and to tell the truth sometimes even I (when I was a child) had trouble understanding the hierarchy in Germany.

Germany is not England, it is very different from the rest of Europe as well. For years people have made fun of Germans, since the time of the Romans when Germans were heathens as the Empire, my people have always been subject to either Rome or other European Country. It was no surprise to my mother why most of our family supported Luther, not only because Kings and rulers such as myself we're free to do as we pleased without the Chruch looking behind our shoulders, but also because that way we became independent from other foreign powers.

I am proud to be German, and every time I hear the English laughing at other people's custom I just want to laugh and tell them that the only reason for their mockery of other peoples is because they have no true religion, or culture of their own. Their little island has been invaded by Romans driving away the celts, and then the Saxons, Jutes and Anglos which coincidently many of them came from Germany the Country they most laugh about after Spain.

These English, I think, how naive and silly they are. Like mindless drones, their King could tell them to jump from a cliff and gladly without thinking it twice they would, and to think they call every other nation barbaric!

I could not help because of this thought to smirk. It was a good thing that I was on a separate carriage away from the King and Queen. Cranmer had been my only company in the voyage to Hunsdon. He had fallen asleep so he did not notice my smirk of course.

I could not wait to meet my son, I want to hold him in my arms, I want him to see me, to see his father who has already fallen in love with him before meeting him face to face. He would be Lord Phillip John, future Duke of Bavaria and if the Queen did bear another son to His Majesty, the next King of England bringing Germany and England together, in perfect harmony I hope.

* * *

Mary was reading on the Theogony, one of the few creations epics of the old pagan greeks that still survived and that the church allowed them to read. Like many of Hesiod's works, the Theogony was both confusing and shocking.  
Hesiod wrote of many characters that Mary could not understand why he would put them there in the first place if they had nothing to do with the story, another thing that his literary works carried was shock and disgust. In his latter work that he made towards the end of his life, _works and days,_ Hesiod's main message to humanity was to respect the laws of men as the laws of Nature, their Gods.

If one person were to live a good life by respecting others, than the Gods would find no reason to curse that man, but if that man were to cheat, steal and plunder the land than the Gods would have their revenge on him cursing not only him but all that belonged to him -including his family.

It was a very similar lesson that the bible tried to teach them. Her mother always said God, unlike what Vives said, did not work in mysterious ways. His ways were simpler but because God was all mighty it became difficult for humanity to understand the way he worked.

God had two ways of doing things, first he asked you what you wanted and if that was pleasing to him he would bless you, that did not necessarily mean though that he would help you achieve your ways, it only meant that he aproved and he would not stand in your way. The second one was God did not aprove, and like the first one he would either step in or step aside.

God could be merciful as he could be vengeful. The English people loved their King because he reminded them of the God they most commonly were taught of the Old Testament. Her mother said the people should rejoice in their faith not mourn it, but for centuries it was the way their faith had been taught in the way of mourning instead of rejoice.

Mary knew she should not think this way, but the more she kept reading about her faith and dogma the more she doubted about whether or not her faith was what the heretics said, hypocrisy based on mourning.

She begins to groan the more these thoughts entered her mind. She just wished she could pull all of them out of her head to let her rest in peace.

She turns around and hears her child's cries. She went to his side. He had been held by Elsa. She had been on a first name basis with the elder midwife. It had been who was responsible for bringing Phillip John into the world in the first place. Her experience and skills delivering babies had saved the both of them.

Elsa carefully handed the baby to her mistress. She was glad to serve the Duchess. She was a good mistress, she let her have chambers in her household and let her enjoy the breakfast time with her and the child. Elsa had never seen such a beautiful child in her life, save her poor girl ...

It was melancholy that struck her when the baby was placed in his mother's arms. Elsa was reminded of a time when she had been a mother, in her arms she had held her daughter, such a sweet child with eyes as dark as night but as grey as her mistress, in fact, every time she looked at the King's eldest daughter she was reminded of what she'd lost.

Her daughter had been as idealist as Mary, and very strong willed, she had never bended over to any man, just like her Mistress. She had been a strong woman, a strong girl and a strong warrior, it was only a shame her lifespan was cut short.

"How is our little boy doing?" Mary asked her son rocking him back and forth as he squealed in delight at the sight of his mother. Her son could not be one minute away from Mary. Every time that he was parted from her, he would start crying for her, Mary would rush to his aide immediately. She didn't want to be parted from him either, but one day she would, like all parents she would have to let her child make his own way in the world like it was done to her and those before them.

It was the natural order of things.

The people who wrote the bible under the influence of God knew about this. That was the whole central focus of Genesis, it was not about God being a punisher, it was more about God being the over protective parent, he had to let Adam and Eve go so they would learn from their mistake, fall down on their own and get back on their own two feet without the help of all knowing God, it was the only way that humanity could learn. But the more Mary had read about old English history the more convinced she became that though God wanted them to learn, humanity was never going to learn, it was going to make the same mistakes over and over again.

A vicious cycle that was also part of the natural order of things.

"They are here" Jane announced coming into her bedchamber along with Susan.

Mary stood up and exited the room walking downstairs, Jane, Susan and Elsa following her to greet her family.

As expected there was her father, his wife (she couldn't bear to call her Queen just yet, not when she bore the same likeness with her fashion and her manerisms to her cousin, Anne Boleyn, and just like her Kitty Howard was a harlot!), the archbishop, and of course her husband Phillip.

"Your Grace" Her father said giving her a quick hug.

"Majesties" Mary said afterwards bowing to them very carefully not to drop her son.

"Your Grace it is a pleasure to see you again" The Queen said. Mary was no fool, she knew the whore did not mean it, but they all had to keep appereances to keep His Majesty pleased.

This twit did not deserve her respect, how dare she wear the crown when she is just a mere consort? Even her cousin, heretic as she was had been a crowned Queen acknowledged by all the heretics. Kitty Howard was not acknowledged as Queen by neither faction, heretic or of her faith.  
She was just her father's toy and would never be anything more. If she failed to give her father a son, or any child at all then she would meet her cousin's fate, something that would not saddened her at all considering where she had come from.

"And you as well ... Your Majesty" Mary said lowering her gaze in respect.

As she looked up to meet the _Queen's_ gaze again, she saw that Kitty's eyes betrayed her perfectly controlled-neutral expression. Her eyes were focused on her child, the child that was putting her in more pressure to bear the King a Duke of York.

"Congratulations" She said, thankfully she was cut shortly before she could have a slip of tongue by the King.

"This is my grandson then, congratulations then Mary, you have made England and I am sure your husband very proud. There is nothing more important than children. They are the basis, the foundation of marriage. With this son I am sure we will prove to Europe and the rest of the world that the Tudor line is invincible" Her father declared.

He wanted to say sons when he meatn children, but he probably was thinking that if he said this it would upset his daughter. Unlike him, he knew that her husband did not care much about the gender of their children. He cared genuinely for Mary, whereas for him as King of England it was important to have a son. It was the reason why he had taken many risks to ensure that the Tudor line would go on.

He was proud that his daughter had not disappointed. Rebellious as she was, she had borne a son and a healthy one at that, one who would take after his side of the family and hopefully he would one day become ruler of Bavaria and the other German states on his own right.  
Contrary to what people believed, he was not ignorant to what was going on in the world. Cranmer and Cromwell had told him of the importance of having someone whom they could control to rule the Protestant States in the Netherlands, such person could be Phillip's son, his grandson.  
After his son in law's direct family had died leaving a pair of sick uncles and other sick men whose males heirs had either died or they left none to take their titles, Phillip was being named as the direct heir. If he came to posses, Holland, Hannuit, the Rhine, Simmerm, Bavaria and the rest of the Protestant states he could become a King, he could unite all of Germany and Henry's grandson perfectly instructed as an English could become his son's puppet. He would act in England's best interests, a strong alliance between England and Germany that would trumple over France and Spain.

Such alliance, he hoped, could only be strengthen if Mary were to have another son. One was not enough, she should know this by now. Just as England could not have one son, Germany could not have only one heir. They needed more than two to keep the territories together under Phillip's rule. Most of those territories did not want to be under Protestant ruler, they wanted to become independent as many Italian city states, but of course that could not be and Henry hoped that his son in law would soon grow a backbone as it was told he had during the siege of Vienna (twelve years ago) to unite those territories under his rule.

If his son in law could not have the backbone then perhaps his wife, his eldest daughter could help him. She had the backbone of a King, it was just a shame that she could not been born a boy, if she had she would have spared him all the troubles of having to look everywhere for a worthy wife.

Mary watched her father. She wanted to know what those dark grey eyes that he had inherited her, hid.

He was proud to have a son, she wondered if she had borne a daughter would he have gone all the way from his fancy palace to visit her? Probably not.

"May I hold him?" Her father asked and knowing it was no good to refuse the King, Mary handed her son over to him.

Her father's arms immediately circled the small babe in his arms. He was beautiful, a perfect Tudor he noticed, he bore no resemblance to Phillip, though sadly very little to his line, the Tudor line, but hopefully his character would say otherwise.

"He is perfect daughter, very perfect hopefully he will have a brother" He said looking back to meet his daughter's dark grey eyes, his same eyes.

Mary nodded. Typical her father would care more about male issues than her daughter's health. She was not entirely out of it after she bore Phillip John, she still fealt light headed every morning following the birth. Elsa said that it was normal for every mother to feel that way, but considering that she had never enjoyed a good health, any sickness was enough for her to worry about.

It sadenned her that her father could only care about his grandson's health than her own, but again she told herself, that was to be expected coming from the man that had gone through heaven and hell to put two wives aside, and risk one's health for the sake of a son.

"Phillip" She said giving him a wide smile.

She didn't bother to acknowledge the Archbishop, something that didn't go unnoticed.

"Mary so this is my son" He said looking at his father in law interacting perfectly with his son.

"Yes it is, perfect isn't he?" She asked her tone hopeful.

Phillip did not care whether she had borne him a son, all that he cared was her health, and judging by the bags under her eyes, she was still very weak. He felt guilty for having making her get out of bed to receive them, but he could not wait, it seemed like ages since he had seen her, and now that they had a child together he felt the happiest man on Earth.

"He is, but how are you doing?"

"I am doing fine Phillip, don't worry just tired that's all" She said her voice reassuring.

Phillip was not easily convinced but he was not going to insist, all that mattered now was that he was with her.

The King seeing the lovely scene playing before his eyes walked to his son in law and his daughter.

"Your Grace" he said "your son"

Phillip bowed deeply in respect to his father in law and carefully took his son.

Something unexpected though happened, the moment the child was taken by his grandfather's arms, he began to cry.

Henry laughed. "Seems the child has taken a better liking to his grandfather" He said playfully, however for Phillip, Kitty and Mary noticed this was no joke.

He tried to calm his son, but whenever the child heard his father's voice he wailed harder. Seeing the tough time Phillip was having and that Mary was trying to keep things together by putting a smile on her face, the Archbishop decided to act.

"Lord Phillip John is probably exhausted, he probably has not slept at all, even the strongest of boys can be overpowered by the lack of sleep" The Archbishop said giving the Duke a huge grin that when he saw it seemed to ease the situation between them, him and his son.

"Yes I am sure" Phillip said handing the baby over to its mother.

The rest of the day they spent it at Hunsdon. For some reason Kitty Howard requested His Majesty to remain in Hunsdon. Kitty stressed to Henry that she wanted to get along with Mary and that it was important for him also to get to know her step grandson. The King bought it.

 

The true reason why Kitty wanted to remain in Hunsdon was because of the Archbishop and Phillip of Bavaria. She had seen the disappointed look on his face when he had held his son. His son had not acknowledged him, he had reacted better under his mother's arms and his grandfather, but the moment he was handed over to Phillip he had began to wail and the more Phillip tried to soothe his son the more the child would turn red and its wails would become more violent.

Phillip let his son be taken by Mary, the moment his mother came the babe's wails ceased. He neared his wife's side but it got worse as the boy looked away from him turning to his grandfather or mother instead.

 _Why?_ He asked himself. _Why was his son refusing to acknowledge him, his father?_

Kitty's laughter helped him ease down his pang of guilt at not being there at his son's birth. If he had been there his son would not have reacted too violently at his presence. Not only had **that** man caused the early delivery and near miscarriage of his son, he had practically stolen his son from him. He did not need but he wanted to anyway, if his son had reacted the same way when he had met the cold, calculate eyes of Eustace Chapusy?

"A marvelous baby" He heard Kitty exclaim at the sight of the child laughing at her. It was not a mock laughter like the one Mary gave behind her back, it was gracious and clean and Kitty enjoyed it.

Those laughters, those giggles they were causing him a great headache. He wanted to take his son from his mother's arms again, to see him, to hush him, to sing to him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright as long as he was in his arms, but it was clear his son wanted nothing to do with him because the closer he got to his wife's side, the more his son began to fidget in his wife's arms.

The throbbing pain in his heart confirmed that Phillip felt at loss for his son's rejection. Growing older, he hoped that his son would accept him. He had to, this was just a phase he assured himself, all children fidgeted in their mother's arms after meeting their fathers. Mothers were always the first face they saw, the pater familias was never allowed to be in the delivery room so it was not uncommon for children to scream at their fathers like they were strangers. He had probably done it too, it was very common in nobles especially Royal children who seldom met their father the day of their birth.

But for Phillip who had longed to be a parent alongside the woman he loved this was too much for him to bear. He wanted to walk away as the Archbishop blessed his son with many praises.

"A great child, he does not cry at strangers"

No he might not at strangers, but he sure did cry at the sight of his father. Phillip thought sourly feeling the air in his lungs escape him.

"Thank you" Mary said without acknowledging his proper title. He could see in his wife's eyes the pure hatred for the Archbishop. He had hoped she would have concealed that hatred by now, but his wife was an emotional creature who could mask her emotions very well but her eyes always revealed her true feelings.


	15. Comfort from an Unlikely Source

_"All of my regret will wash away somehow_   
_But I cannot forget the way I feel right now_   
_In these small hours_   
_These little wonders_   
_These twists and turns of fate"_

**~Little Wonders by Rob Thomas**

* * *

The true reason why Kitty wanted to remain in Hunsdon was because of the Archbishop and Phillip of Bavaria. She had seen the disappointed look on his face when he had held his son. His son had not acknowledged him, he had reacted better under his mother's arms and his grandfather, but the moment he was handed over to Phillip he had began to wail and the more Phillip tried to soothe his son the more the child would turn red and its wails would become more violent.

The look on the Duke's face, forlorn and shocked to see his only heir, his only son and child reject him. And it had not ended there, everyone besides Phillip who had held the child, the child had responded alright including with her. Kitty thought she would hate this child, because this child represented everything she had not yet. A son, a male heir for England, a Duke of York, yet when those little eyes looked up at her she forgot all of her hatred and her fears and opened her heart for the child.

He was a cute little thing, but poor Phillip (the babe's father) he did not realize how cruel his wife could be. She had not told this to Henry out of fear he could take his anger at the Imperial Ambassador and Phillip more than his disobedient daughter Mary, but after news of the child's birth Phillip had come to her in confidence. They had become good friends and he had helped ease the tension that ran between her and the Archbishop Cranmer who erroniously thought that she was a harlot who would bring the old ways in England. He had told Kitty that Mary's letter told him all about His Excellency, how Chapuys had been there to witness the birth of her son.

Kitty was shocked about this. Throughout all her life she had heard that no man was supposed to enter the birthing chamber, it was forbidden and it was considered a sin! At least that was what her grandmother the Dowager Duchess put it.

This was a huge break of protocol, she should have told her husband, but that night when Phillip had told her she had seen the pleading look on his eyes, his sorrow also evident. He loved Mary more than life itself, even more than God. She had never seen a man love a woman so much in her life. A love like that was very rare to find at Court, but there it was in his emerald eyes.  
And the broken expression after his son had rejected his embrace had been heart breaking for Kitty, she wanted nothing more than to march up to Mary and ask her if she knew how much she was hurting her husband? What a twit, inviting somebody whom she should hold no relation (for the Empire had never been a true ally of England, Henry had told her they were often deceitful and backstabbing) to her room, and to the birthing chamber no less! No lady should behave like that, she was supposed to be a Princess of England, a Duchess now, that behavior if it continued, Kitty thought, would only bring her more trouble.

But it wasn't her that Kitty was concerned, it was the Duke of Bavaria who since his marriage had been mounting confidence that his wife loved with the same intensity as he to her.

She was no white dove, she had done many things in her life with men that she was not proud of, but those days were over. She was now Queen and she knew better than to disobey her wedding bows. Clearly little miss perfect did not care much for Phillip if she was willing to tell him about Chapuys being present at the birth of their son, she had not taken into consideration how the truth would have affected her husband. How could someone be that cold and indifferent?

As the week slowly died, preparations were being made. Her husband discussed with Phillip about their grandson upcoming baptism. She could see in the Princess and Duchess' eyes her defiance.

"Why should we let Cranmer baptize our son?" Kitty had heard Mary say right after her husband had informed her the upcoming christening of their son, Lord Phillip John.

She had been walking downstairs when she had heard their argument.

The Duchess was very adamant, she wanted her husband to know her views about religion. Kitty could not help her curiosity. She had put an ear to the door outside their chambers.

"Mary please sweetheart what is the p-"

His wife did not let him finish that argument, her voice raised and full of determination she said:  
"I am not going to have my son's head be baptized by the devil's fire"

Kitty had to resist the urge to roll her eyes and laugh at the Duchess' statement. She had known of her fanaticism, personally so many things were said of Mary Tudor that she hadn't known what to believe, but now hearing her argument she realized that all the rumors of her fanaticsim were true. This woman not only fought for her religion, she actually believed she was its holy crusader.

Just what kind of woman had Henry begot from the late Katherine of Aragon? Of all his children, she had to be the only one who bore no resemblance to His Majesty. In her physical appearance she wall Henry, but her character was the pure echo of his enemies, mainly the Emperor Charles I and V of Spain. Had even Phillip been aware whom he had married?

She heard Phillip moan with grateful distress at his wife's comment.

"Mary let us not go there. What difference does it make who baptizes little Phillip?" He asked protesting.

Mary began to laugh. "You want my son to be a heretic then, I have already arranged a tutor for him ..."

Now it was her turn to be cut short by Phillip and about time, Katherine thought, for she was this close to bursting into the room and demand to her stepdaughter to show respect for her husabnd.

Mary continued unaware that their conversation was being listened, and she raised her voice higher than before as she stomped her foot on the ground to make her point clear that she was not going to have her son be baptized in a heretic ceremony or be taught heresies.

"You are being irrational and dellusional if you think I am going to let you ..."

"Mary it is you who is being dellusional here, first tell me why is it you let a man into your bedroom to witness the birth of our son? Might I remind you Madame that it is the same man who could have caused you a miscarriage!" Phillip yelled.

Kitty thanked God for having driven her husband and the Archbishop outside on a walk of the gardens.

 _Mary works quickly,_ Kitty realized, and faster to speak and counter her oponnent's arguments.

"Is this what this is about then? I don't see how him being in the room has anything to do with your anger? Why can't you let me choose Bishop Gardiner instead or better yet have Wriothlesly chose a tutor for our son?" She asked desperate.

"Because Bishop Gardiner is not in your father's favor as is Cranmer and he is a Catholic Mary you know how bad that would make us look? Your father would think that you are betraying him, that we are betraying him rebelling against him. Do you really want to fall out of favor so quickly?"

"And do you want to risk our son's soul"

"Ugh Mary there is no reasoning with you!" Phillip barked. "I love you but you are acting childish."

"Me?" Mary inquired with a mock laughter. "Since when did I become the center of your problems?"

"Don't start Mary ..."

"My father has given you large purse, he has given you pensions a place in his court and you have made friends in high places Phillip. You owe my father anything so you say, but the real person you owe is me!"

 _How dare she the little Princess insult him like that?_ Kitty thought enraged that a woman could show such disrespect to her husband.

Whoever heard of a woman giving her husband power? Men gave women everything, and men could take everything away, surely she in her dogamitic and strict catholic faith had been taught that? Or was she acting hypocrit like most of her faith, ignoring some rules and following those that suited her? Typical of any catholic, why should she be surprised?

She neared the door and pressed her ear closer.

"Mary please calm down"

"Don't treat me like a child Phillip, I am not"

"I am not saying you are but sweet Mary calm down, please I implore listen to yourself, is this how you want us to be every time we see each other?" He inquired his voice hopeful in contrast to Mary's resentful tone.

"Don't you want to pick up our son and care more about holding him in your arms than his education?" He asked again hoping his wife could see the light.

It was not so.

"Of course I do, but I'm never going to be a subject to heresy and neither will my son, so why fool myself, why fool yourself thinking I am going to make my son puppet to your faith's teachings?" She asked acidly.

Phillip sighed deeply.

Kitty felt pity for him. He was at the mercy of a foreign Court and what was worse, he was at the mercy of a crazy fanatic.

"Mary" His tone hardened. "when I am husband to the Princess of England I am also owner of her rights, her household, and don't forget that I am heir to most of the important territories besides Bavaria, I am Duke a ruler in my own as well and you are just a Consort. Our son will have the best education that I deem worthy"

"No" Kitty could picture Mary now shaking her head vigorously as she cried "My husband should know that all you have could go away in a second! Believe it or not I have the power to make all of this disappear, or do you think we can hold our marriage after the Pope and everyone thinks we are not man and wife?"

Phillip began to clap. "Congratulations then, you just prove my point, I should chose my son's education because my son's mother cares more about his soul, his catholic soul than his upbringing. What a great mother you are making Mary abandoning him just like your father abandoned you and poor Elizabeth!"

She had never heard Phillip use sarcasm, and she could bet Mary hadn't either.

"Don't use that tone"

"Then what tone Mary, please tell me what I should do to please you? Please, pleaes tell me"

"Phillip don't be ridiculous you please me, and I love you but I can't let you do this. Not to our son, I suffer every night praying for both our souls, I have been a patient, and passive wife, I have submitted to your every will, to your every whim, I have even accepted your friends, I have shown them kindness. Sorry if I insulted you ... Please understand that I love you" Mary said using her last card to convince Phillip. Instead of fighting her voice softended and she could hear Mary's soft breathing, she was playing the role of victim just like her mother.

"I want nothing more than to be a good mother and loyal wife ..."

Everything was going good until Mary had to mention:

"... if that is what the Pope and my cousin wants. If Chapuys convinces them then we can-"

"Enough of Chapuys, Chapuys this, Chapuys that, I swear I hear his name one more time-"

Mary cut him off crying -"You will what? Cheat on me with another woman? or, take my son away from me, that is a good one, now who is being the irrational creature here?"

"The irrational creature? I don't even know what you are saying, all this because I decided to mention that your father is having the Archbishop of Canterbury baptizing our son!"

"I can't let that heretic poison my son's soul, he and the Boleyns are the reason why my mother died"

"Then the more reason why you should know already your father is not a man to always stay in the same mood. Whenever he grows hot, one little change of weather he can turn cold. He might favor you now, but that favor can turned to anger if you displease him any further by not giving respects to his wife, the Queen of England" He said reminding her of her dislike to Kitty Howard and how it was causing them trouble.

"And why should I acknowledge the cousin of that whore!" She cried.

Kitty formed fists. She was squeezing them very hard. Nobody insulted her family and got away with it, why should the Queen of England have to tolerate this grown brat's insult? She wanted nothing more than to march up to her and demand respect but for the time being she was much a subject of her husband as was Mary. She couldn't reprimand her without first going to the King to complain about her stepdaugther's behavior.

"Because that cousin's whore " Phillip said "happens to be your father's wife, the Queen of England"

"She is not Queen until she is crowned!" Mary reminded him.

"That is not the point, crowned or not she is young and your father is sure that she will give England a son soon. He is very infatuated with her Mary, you should be careful where you thread with her."

Mary growled.

"I will not have him be-"

"Let us not fightover this"

"No let us fight Phillip, I will not let my son's soul be thrown from Heaven's gate on my watch. I am the boy's mother!"

"And I am the boy's father!" He cried back.

He sighed defeatedly.

"Mary please as your husband I beg you don't incurr his wrath, don't give him reason to toss you aside. His favor is being put on your sister now, she is your stepmother's favorite and Edward as always. If you don't show her any favor, simply make a comment you don't have to be her best friend; he will take all of this away, and he will take Phillip John away not just from you but from me too!"

"He would not" She said quickly her tone harsh as before.

"He put aside two of his wives he said he loved and cherished because they could not give him a son, one was the aunt of the most poweful man in Europe, the other was the woman he fought hard to marry and abstained from any other relationship while he waited her to come his bed for seven years, I think your father is capable of anything by now"

Mary breathed hard, for every exhale Kitty was trying hard to picture their faces. Phillip the ever so calm and sympathetic Duke must be masking his anger with a neutral expression, the same she suspected when he had told Kitty of Mary's letter after his son's birth.

Mary she could picture her acting nervous and desperate, her face not able to hide her negative array of emotions.

"Even so," she said "I am not going to have my son be taught by a Heretic and that is final"

"He is also my son Mary and like it or not I have a say in his education as well!" He said harshly leaving his wife speechless.

The silence went on like forever, and Kitty became more invaded with curiosity. She wanted to be inside the room just to see the look on Mary's face after her husband had won the argument.

However Phillip's triump was short lived as Kitty heard the heavy footstalls of Mary advancing closer to the door, and then suddenly they stopped as Mary in a deathly tone said to her husband.

"If that is what you want just bear this in mind that I am his mother, and just as all your lutheran women say, a mother knows best about her offspring's education than his father, but I will respect your decission wrong as we both know it is"

Every little comment she made was like a dagger to his heart, and worst of all was she was not realizing how much she was hurting him. Much as she believed in her faith, so did Phillip. Tolerance was a word the Duchess did not include in her dictionary, she had made it evident with her last comment.

Kitty took this as her opportunity to leave quickly to the guest rooms of Hunsdon that she was sharing with her husband before she could be noticed by Mary.

* * *

_"We walk alone in the unknown  
We live to win another victory  
_ _We are the young dying suns  
_ _we live to change the face of history  
so be afraid the price to pay!_ _"_

**We are one by 12 stones**

* * *

One week later after their last discussion, Mary could not believe that it had come to this. She was now standing at Westiminster witnessing the heresy, a mockery of a true christening ceremony hosted by the Archbishop Cranmer to baptize her son!

She had practically sold her son's soul to the devil. How could she? How could Phillip have agreed with this, and how -she still failed to acknowledge this- easily had she been swayed by his soft words to concede to his demands!

She became invaded by anger once more when she heard the Archbishop speak in English once more.

This was not how this was supposed to go. Her son should have been baptized by Bishop Gardiner (a true churchman), in a Latin ceremony, his soul had forever been forsaken by Phillip but Phillip did not know this, he thought that he was doing the right thin and so did her father who was more happy to see another male Tudor heir in the Royal craddle than to care for his daughter's preferences.

Was this how this was supposed to be? Was God displeased by this yet he was choosing not to intervene on her behalf?

She asked for a savior day and night after Phillip had told her that their son would be christened in a heretic ceremony. But the savior never answered her prayers, sometimes she would even speak to her mother before Phillip came into their bedroom hoping to hear an answer but she never answered her either.

For the first time Mary realized she was utterly alone.

No one was going to come to save her or deliver her son from this evil, she had to do it herself but she didn't have the courage nor the motivation to do it.

How weak she had been for not fighting harder with Phillip against this.

Her mother had always been brave when it came to defending her beliefs against her father, Mary in contrast had not possessed the same strength, in the end she had accepted Phillip's judgment. She had given very little resistance. If her mother had been present at the time of their discussion, she would have been disappointed to see Isabella's granddaughter give up so easily.

Her son's godmother, Kitty Howard, carried the newly christened Lord Phillip John away after the Archbishop's words had uttered the words "let us go in peace"and the ceremony had ended. She could not take her son away from her because doing so would be seen as a great insult, and the last thing she wanted was to make this day worse.

She had to watch as everyone gathered around their new savior, a messiah she heard many say, including her father, one who had united the Protestant States of Germany with England and would one day be the ruler of a powerful nation.

She felt something slid past her cheek. While everyone was so busy gathering around her son, her hand went to her eyes. It was a hot liquid, she was crying she realized. She was crying, how silly of her! Why should she cry?

She should be happy, had brought England another heir after her father begot Edward! A son who if he inherited her father's throne, he would become the most powerful man in all Europe, powerful enough to rival her cousin's Holy Roman Empire. She should not be sadenned, she should rejoice for she had borne a strong union between the Protestants States and England. It was a strong union, one she should be proud ...

But she wasn't.

There was nothing to be proud of. She retired her finger away from her face. She did not notice the voice of someone close by.

It was not until that person touched her shoulder that she noticed him.

"Excellency" She exclaimed. During the whole ceremony he had been there, but she had never noticed him. She thought that considering how her cousin did not approve of this union, that he would not be present, but then she reminded herself that Chapuys was a diplomat and it was his duty to oversee all the royal dealings in England to report back to his master.

"Your Grace" He said. He had noticed her sadness long before the crowd had gathered around the Queen and her only step grandson. "I come to give you good news"

 _It will be the only good news in all day_ she thought sourly blinking twice to make sure the apparent sadness was cleared from her eyes.

It was not but Chapuys and she pretended that it was, it would soon be no doubt after he told her the good news he had just received from the Emperor.

"The Emperor has just ordered me to tell you as soon as possible that His Holiness and him have aproved of your union and henceforth their blessings to your son, Lord Phillip John. I am sure he will make a fine ruler someday"

Mary looked at her son still in that harlot's arms. "Yes I am sure he will" She said. "He will make a fine ruler" she said once more now with more confidence.

The news had erased all the sadness from her eyes. One days soon the situation in England would change, and if she ever got to be Queen, she would freeze all the heretics' movements starting by the calvinists and lutherans. She would shed as much blood as she would have to, waste as much lives as possible to make sure that her son would inherit a good Catholic Kingdom and though Phillip and her father had the upper hand now, she would be the last one laughing in the end when her son would unite both England and the Heretic Territories, and she would make sure that he cleansed all of those territories from Heretic influence.

In her eyes Chapuys saw determination arise combined with anger. Chapuys did not need to turn to see where her anger came from. The Queen of England arms had relaxed the crying infant that had formally been in her husband's arms. It seemed that as far as parenting skills went Phillip lacked them, one of many skills Chapuys had observed that the younger man lacked.

"And you will too. He will have your strenght" Chapuys suddenly said, surprisingly even himself for he had not intended to say this. He had always spoke to his lady with the truth, but some times people deserved more than the truth, sometimes the truth was not enough, sometimes people like his lady needed a stimulant to go on with their lives.

Mary turned to the Ambassador meeting his light blue eyes. The smile in her lips widened as she heard him. They had not talked like this in almost a year, it was nice to hear him speak on a friendly basis with her again.

"Only if Gods wills it, only if God wills it" she said quoting her mother's favorite phrase.

Chapuys nodded "of course, but allow me to say that God will not have a son of England be forsaken from his strong mother" He said his voice reassuring.

Her son's giggles no longer became as important as was the aproval and comfort in His Excellency's words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quick fact vs fiction. Bishop Gardiner was a strong Catholic figure, very prominent during Henry's name and yes some historians as I have read in journals have called him very fanatic, and to our view now he was, but one thing that I have learned from my history professors is that when we read history especially for me as a history major, is better to read it without a twenty first century perspective, basically unlearn everything you have been taught and understand the people back then, getting into their minds, history is not only read, ready, and investigate is also doing detective work and putting ourselves in the mind of the people we are studying.  
> All history is subjective, so my advise is to those doing fanfiction or going into a history centered career is to read the material that is the subject of your study, but when you read it don't just stop there ask questions like how, why and what? and the more you ask these questions the more you will be motivated to investigate further and understand the period.
> 
> *I hope that POB and Mary was to your liking, I think that as Nell Painter once suggested that history characters cannot be psycho analyzed only understood because they are dead however with historical fiction we try to do this to add a level of realism to our stories, and I am hoping that I am meeting everyone's expectations as far as CHARY go.


	16. Destiny Calls

_"Socrates according to Plato's re-account of his last dialogues (before this was imprisoned) said that love was not all beautiful and that beautiful does not mean necessarily good. Love is a schemer, it yearns to be beautiful because it lacks that which it desires, so do we as humans we look always for what we lack, and it all starts with desire and desire does not have to be started with our eyes, it can be mental visualization, though in some extreme cases visualization does start by what we physically see and when that happens desire can turn to obsession and twist the balance imposed by love"_ **~Anonymous on Plato, Socrates and Love**

* * *

Mary's chest was a rough knot of pain twisting around her heart. Should she draw the sharp sword of her rough words against the King's consort and demand that she give her son back? Or, should she just let things be like her betters had done before her?

Such contradictions with her desires, if her mother was here she would tell Mary to let it be, to bow down her head for her husband's will, that was what her mother would do, what any good Christian woman would do. But for Mary to bow down her head while her son continued to receive the praise of the demonic like Cranmer and other Heretics, including her own husband who had permitted for this mockery he liked to call "Baptism", would be to give up her faith, the true faith, in God.

Out of what proverbs had said in the holy gospels instructed women to be wise mothers, and good housewives but it also said that women should know more than their husbands about politics, economics and know of administering their own Households should they be left alone without a man to take care of them or their children. Women had an important task, said Proverbs, to look after the family, to educate them in the law of their Lord and to rear the children to be good subjects for God.  
Mary felt it was her duty to rear a good son, for Bavaria and for England.

She felt this was her calling, she could feel God speaking to her as if on a vision, on a heavenly trance when her son had been borne.

God choses us all, but very few are his favorites. Indeed, even the pagans as mentioned in the epic poem by Homer, the Illiad –we don't get to choose what the gods gives us … and we can't just toss their gifts aside. Paris though regarded as the great coward, had possessed great knowledge of the gods' will, of what fate meant.

Fate meant for Mary to rear her son in a home where God and the gospels were abundant along with joy forming a good balance for the soul by adding prosperity to it.

But, she often asked since her son was born and with her last discussion with Phillip before her son's "Christening", how can she give him prosperity when her own marriage was on the rocks?

Phillip did not want to listen to her, everything that came from her mouth passed through his ears without care, and without regard that she might be right. In Phillip's mind it was Mary who was the child here, the poor frail being who needed protection, who could not make it out on her own, much less could she make a decision for another more defenseless being like their child.

 _Listen to yourself,_ her mind reproached her, _are you going to let Phillip win this round? Have you not learned anything from your mother's hardship, from all her trials and tribulations she passed for you, against your father?  
Your mother loved God, she obeyed all of the Lord's commandments, she never coveted or wished for anything or anyone that was not hers, unlike Anne Boleyn who wreaked your home and your mother's. She was a good Christian woman, she exemplified purity and chastity, so should you make yourself virtuous and pure. Chastity is not only to be loyal sexually to your spouse, you also have to exemplify what the Gospels demand of you as God's servant and as a good Christian woman and a mother._

It was right, who was she to question the Lord's will or her mother's actions? Her mother had never doubted God, she had never doubted her mission on Earth, to save her father's soul and Mary's as well as to fight for her daughter's rightful claim to the English throne.

Mary should not doubt for a second that she was disobeying the Lord's will, clearly he meant for Mary to march up like David had against Goliath, to Kitty and the rest of the Heretics who were intent on staining her son's innocent and pure white soul.

She was a warrior of God, and not only for God but also for her son. This sounded confusing to us, but bear for Mary who believed this to be an absolute truth from a God that in her mind was not only caring, loving and forgiving but also a powerful patriarchal figure who represented justice for the weak and (with her case) for the mistreated.

Mary did not consider herself a victim, she never would. Victims for her were weak, and she had been reared never to cry, to show emotion because that was weak, and her mother would not want to see her that way, neither would His Excellency whose piercing blue eyes were still bearing on her dark grey ones.

"Milady …"

He was cut off before he could begin to comfort her.

"I am very glad you came. You honor me with your presence Your Excellency. You have been my most trusted confidant and friend, probably the only one I have amongst a nest of hornets" she said carefully looking besides her at the people who were still around her son giving him huge praise.

Chapuys said after she returned her gaze to him. "We all have difficult times ahead, but I must tell you something, something very grave"

Mary knitted her eyebrows. What could be so grave that could make his face so forlorn and force his teeth to bite his lips, a manner in which she had never seen him act before.

Could he be leaving? The thought of him leaving her again was unbearable. Last time he had left a poor replacement had been sent as the representative of the Empire by her niece and cousin Mary of Hungary. Maioris proved to be a very cunning and smart politician, but he lacked that slyness and cynicism which had always been the distinctive trademarks of her most trusted friend.

"What is it?" She finally asked leaving aside for a moment all formalities.

The people behind them seem to fade away and it was only them now.

"Milady I have convinced the Emperor to approve of your marriage and he in turn has convinced the pope" In reality the pope needed little convincing since the Emperor controlled the man very well, but he didn't voice this of course.

"So what is it that I need to worry about? Is there something you are not telling me Your Excellence?" She asked cautio8usly eyeing him very well.

He could feel her intrusive look while she was also inspecting for the truth inside his soul.

"Milady" he refrained himself from being intimidated at her presence. It was not like he hadn't faced her in similar circumstaces before. "The Emperor's hopes are that your stepmother will give the King another Princess or that God be willing the Duke of Cornwall remains your father only (male) heir"

Mary's eyes narrowed. "But what good would that do? Surely Edward would inherit and I-I will still be a bastard like my poor sister" She said in a matter of fact way "Everyone knows that" she finished like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Chapuys had to resist to smirk, his poor, poor and still poor-sweet lady, good natured and selfless, these atittudes had made her very naive.

"But I have been talking to other people at Court who have argued that since your mother was an annointed heir (and while Prince Edward, while heir to the crown) still his mother was not annointed Queen, not officially like yours, that is why if your father's new wife has a son, he will not hessitate to annoint her to avoid any doubts pertaining about his Duke of York's legitimacy"

Mary moved her head slightly backwards. "So you are saying that if Edward, God forbid, has no heirs of his own I ... could ... be placed after him?"

"Exactly" He said quickly not able to hide his excitement as his Lady finally thought about the great possibilities that could await her, should she be next in line after her brother.

That would not only place her as second in line to the throne, but also her son. She would succeed where her father, and (though she loved Edward, the prospect of being a Queen was a thought she could not pull from her mind, she would be realizing her mother's dream after all and **her** dream) her brother would not, giving the Tudor line heirs, a strong Tudor (male) heir who was healthy and who would live on to have his own heirs, hopefully males all of them.

Queen Mary the First of England and France and First Lady of Ireland ...

She would be the highest born woman in the land, she was already even if everyone said the contrary because of her (current) bastard status put there by her father.

She looked away from Chapuys, wheeling around to see the scene that had not changed since she had turned to face Chapuys earlier. Her son was still held in Queen Katherine's arms, the harlot was praising him and her laughter was loud and clear for everyone to hear. What hurt Mary the must was that her husband and her father were joining in the laughter. She could have been disgusted at such display, but no ammount of the snake's happiness could overshadow her own at the prospect that it would be her who would be Queen, and her son, her perfect male heir would be King of England someday and Duke of Bavaria joining two perfect Kingdoms together. It was more than whatever heir her father had begotten after her.

Smiling she wheeled back to face the ambassador. "Only if God wills it Excellency, only if God wills it" She said.

He opened his mouth to reply but soon his mouth closed, as her smiled waned when they heard Phillip call her name.

"Mary, Mary!" He called.

Mary excused herself from the ambassador and went to her husband's side, who much to her chagrin, was still laughing at a bad joke that Katherine Howard made about her, regarding her past somber atittude prior to marrying Phillip.

"Don't you find it funny Your Grace?" Asked Kitty, not bothering to show the slightes sign of respect for a former Princess of England. Mary though a bastard was still the King's daughter and as such she deserved respect, but Kitty knowing well what Mary thought of her was not willing to show her any.

The same could be said about Mary, who after gritting her teeth was forced to smile and amicably reply "I find it quite a jest you make. The best can only be expected from a true English Queen"

Kitty high pitched laughter was joined in by the others after Mary finished.

She was making fun of her, but like her mother she would not reply, she would not fight her, because unlike Kitty Mary descended from Kings and Queens. She was daughter, granddaughter, great and many times great granddaughter of Kings and Queens and unlike Kitty Howard who was a young and silly, little, frivolous girl, she knew how to behave herself and endure the psychological pain that her enemies put her through. She would behave herself with the same grace that her mother did when she endure her trials and tribulations of her father's many backstabbings, including his last to her with Anne Boleyn.  
Her mother never publicly fought him, she never disrespected him, she never verbally lashed at him for there are other ways women could humiliate and destroy their enemies and such ways Mary had learned them through her mother and what she had seen of Chapuys -her greatest mentor so far.

So let Kitty laugh, let her enjoy her father's favor and amorous pursuit of her young figure. As Socrates and Agathon said in Plato's Symposium -beauty never lasts, it all decays. Love is the search for what it lacks, love is not all beautiful, it is not milk and honey. It can be cruel and love above all we must never forget, behaves like a scheemer, it can create, modify and destroy, and if love fails to balance all impurities and virtues alike then it falls under desire and desire can ultimately end (if temperance is absent) in obsession and in regret.  
Sooner or later happiness end. Like it ended for Anne Boleyn it would end for Kitty Howard.

So let her enjoy this ... while it lasts.

* * *

 _"If women want any rights why don't they just take them, and not be talking about them"_ **~Sojourner Truth**

* * *

On the third month after her son's birth, she and Phillip traveled back to Hunsdon.

Because of her son she and her husbands had been given two more states. Both states were grand and very big, but Mary didn't find them very enjoyable since she had little to do in them. It was always the same routine since her son's birth. Walk with Phillip, walk with her son's nurse, talk with Susan, welcome newcomer Lady Jane Dormer to her service. Read Chapuys' letters for news of her cousin and niece -Mary of Hungary.

For years she had yearned this, to be back into her father's good graces.

_'Be careful what you wish for ... it could become true'_

Her mother had been right. Always be careful what you wish for, because you never know in what circumstances can you find yourself living that wish.

Three years ago she would never have imagined herself being married. She remembered telling Chapuys (a year before he had left the Country and been replaced -with a man whom she thought was the worst replacement they could find for him, Maioris) that she would never be destined for happiness, and that he better tell her cousin to cancel the marriage agreement between Dom Luis de Portugal and her.

Rumors were he had married some wench, whore or poor noble ... whatever. The case was that he was not available and after she was forced to stage an angry discussion -at Cromwell and her father's request- with Chapuys over her dowry by the Emperor concerning her betrothal with Dom Luis, she had begun to think that she would never find a suitable groom.

Nobody wanted to wed her father. Christina de Milan and Marie of Guise had both said that if they had one extra head to give to her father they would.

Her father should consider himself lucky that he had Anne of Cleves and that he had gotten from what he called the "ugly Flanders' Mare" a child, though stillborn he was still able to prove through her pregnancy that he could still beget children from women, young, old, ugly or not.

Beauty though for her father coupled with poor wits and youth equaled health. The sole reason why he had married Kitty Howard because the girl was not the smartest cookie, and she was a young, handsome woman. With her French dances like her cousin she had trapped her father and her blond curls flying and forming a net that imitated the sunshine's rays when she would twirl in her dances amused not only the King, but the entire Court. Even Mary's husband had fallen under the harlot's spell and why should Phillip not be excused when Kitty had the same smile that Helen of Sparta was said to have had that launched a thousand ships to come for her?

This silly thing could cause trouble for her if she bore a Duke of York. Mary wanted to be Queen and she wanted to see England return to its rightful place, as a faithful nation to Rome and to the true religion.

Her hopes she did not realize however were squashed the moment she had given birth to what would become the third child of the Reformation -her son Lord Phillip.

Mary stood from her seat and came out of her bedroom. She went to the living room where she saw Phillip trying to reconcile with his son.

The first month had been very difficult for both father and son. Phillip Jr. saw his father as a stranger and Phillip? ... well Phillip he tried very hard but seldom would he get a smile from her son -unless his mother or grandparents were present.

Phillip was mumbling something under his breath that made their son giggle.

It made her husband smile. Little Phillip no longer saw his father as a stranger. "Yes, you do. You do isn't that right? Isn't that right?" He said playfully to his heir.

Mary giggled as did her son.

It was a beautiful scene. The two men she loved most in life were finally bonding, they no longer needed her intervention so Mary left for outside where she took a walk all on her own.

The quiet environment, the fresh air, and the smell of the blooming flowers plus the beautiful singing of the birds made her mind go blank. Too many thoughts always invaded her, but with the stillness of the forest around her with ever step she took to venture deeper into the woods, her mind and her body also came to a stillness. Everything inside her finally found peace. The only sound she heard were the birds on top of tress singing.

When her whole body finally found peace, at the same time her mind went completely blank. Untroubled that she was far away now from her state at Hunsdon, she looked up and spotted four beautiful flying creatures she had not noticed before on her premises.

Two were blue with green butterflies. They were mostly green, only two dots on each wing were blue and had it not been for those two dots she would not have noticed them as their green color allowed them to blend in perfectly with the leaves of the tress' branches above her. They landed on top of her finger as she raised her hand to receive them.

The two others were hawks, very beautiful. The sunlight made their blueish outlines visibles. She had not seen a hawk since she was twelve. Back then when she had been at Ludlow, she had asked her servant friend, Michael to teach her everything he could about falconry. She wanted to talk, eat and walk like a man so her father would be proud and stop his dangerous obsession for a male heir. Falconry became her past time, and Michael whom she knew nothing of after she had been removed from Ludlow, took as his obsession to train her.  
He had been eight years older than her, but for his age he was far ahead of his times. Unlike her tutor Vives he did not believe in the passiveness of women, he was the one who told her that you make your own destiny and that because she was very strongwilled and open to try things that other women or Princesses in her position would not try, her destiny would lead her to the throne of England. He wanted to prove his theory by making her into a master of falconry.

She never thought herself as the best, but she loved to brag. Mary always showed off her skills that she was better than any man to exalt her talents as the heir presumptive you had to. You had to seem as the best, because best in royalty means power and power means everything in England for a woman. Anne and her mother were proof of that.

In an attempt to lift her arm so she could tame the first falcon, the falcon flew away and only one remained. She didn't know how, it defied all logic but somehow she knew this gorgeous specimen was female.

The hope that she was Mistress and Master of everything around her returned as the small bitch stopped and landed on top of her left arm which was lifted as her other one.

There was another incentive why Mary wanted to have these flying creatures on top of her. The skies were always something that Mary wanted to conquer. Despite her mother warning her that too much pride could kill a woman, she ambitioned to conquer. She could be another Isabella, another Alexander Magnas (for 'Great') if given the chance. The animals responding to her invasive thoughts of greatness flew to her shoulders.

The falcon's small yellow eyes turned to Mary dark grey ones.

"If I could have your boldness and your strength to lift my arms to the heavens and to stand against giants I could be remembered in the centuries to come" She said slowly.

The falcon replied tilting her head upwards.

The sky.

It was poiting to the heavens where Mary wished to soar.

That was where all the universe held its greater mysteries, where the stars revolved, silently moving around Earth waiting for the time when we could discover them. Her grandmother had been a visionary, she believed in travel, in any travel be that by land or sea. Thanks to Isabella financing Columbus' and other explorers voyages now every Christian knew of the new world and it had opened doors to new trades and new knowledge.

If men could be capable of discovering new lands withing their round planet, then they could logically one day discover new things in the skies and beyond in space.

As if the falcon had read her mind it flew away and she saw it quickly disappear . After it went out of sight the butterflies followed.

Mary lowered her gaze to the ground, she did not believe in coincidences. She believed everything happened for a reason, this had been a sign from God that she was meant to do great things as her mother had tried during her first years of marriage with her father.

Science and religion she could bring all of that back to England, God be willing she now believed, when she would ascend as its next Queen.

In the intellectual aspect Mary considered herself as a scholar among her gender, not because she believed she was better than any woman, this need that turned her to an overachiever to become the greatest mind in England, came from her desire to emulate her father, a King.

If she could not be a King in the physical aspect she could become one by the way she would act to others. Marillac the ambassador from France, an enemy of her dear _friend_ Chapuys, considered her to be an example of all the Royals. If it wasn't because she was already taken and his rival ambassador had convinced his master (to convince the Pope) to validate the marriage, he would be knocking constantly at her door asking her to consider a French betrothal with the Duc of Orleans.  
Marillac wanted France to replace the Empire, and that wasn't as far as his ambitions for his master went, he also had ambitions for himself. He wanted to replace Chapuys in any way, shape or form he could find as the next great foreign influence in the English Court. He had done that for a time when Chapuys had been gone. With the poor replacement, Marillac had found it easier to reach his rival's former position, but for all his schemes and his slyness Chapuys had beat him right to it again when he returned.

She made a vow now while on her way to Hunsdon, that no matter what, she would never doubt Chapuys' word again. He had done more for her than any other ambassador or ally. Because of him her son was legitimate, and she had come to find herself closer to the throne of England than expected -if the rumors the ambassador told her about the Queen's fertility were true, that she had supposedly put a pebble between her legs to avoid becoming pregnant by the other men she had bedded in the Dowager Duchess' Household. Chapuys told her never to divluge this, not even to her husband. They had no official proof she had been intimate with Dereham or the other men she had been rumored to be intimate with. All they had were gossip and therefore unfounded rumors. A rumor though in her father's Court could prove to be very powerful evidence when it was convenient for him.

For now though she would follow his advice, but if it ever came that she felt cornored or threatened by Kitty Howard, she would expose her, rumor or not, Kitty for what she was and that way she would secure the way for herself and her children to the throne of England.

With this new image where she saw herself walking to the throne of England, her red hair flowing and the Archbishop of Canterbury placing the Crown on top of her head, annointing her forehead and the orb being placed on hands; Mary walked back to her Hunsdon unaware during her jouney back that the sun had set -and by the time she came inside to find Phillip with their son still in his hands, the skies had gone completely dark, its clouds covering completely the full moon.


	17. Say It's Not True

" _Talk all the talk with a poet's style_  
Tongue like electric, eyes like a child  
Buy only wives and the classic cars  
Live like a savior, live like the stars  
Talk all the talk with a model's smile  
Tongue like electric, eyes like a child  
Buy all your highs and the classic cars  
Die on the front page, just like the stars

 _The big screens, the plastic-made dreams_  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it  
Its our world, the picture-book girls  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it  
Don't you ask me if its love my dear  
Love don't really mean a thing round here  
The fake scenes the plastic-made dreams  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it

 _Pace all the rooms with a jealous style_  
Tongue like electric, eyes like a child  
Paint all your soul with the grand designs  
Reach like a savior, your heart on the line  
Talk all the talk with a model's smile  
Tongue like electric, eyes like a child  
Buy all your highs and the classic cars  
Die on the front page, just like the stars

 _The big screens, the plastic-made dreams_  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it  
Its our world, the picture-book girls  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it  
Don't you ask me if its love my dear  
Love don't really mean a thing round here  
The fake scenes the plastic-made dreams  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it

 _The big screens, the plastic-made dreams_  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it  
Its our world, the picture-book girls  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it

 _Don't you ask me if its love my dear_  
Love don't really mean a thing round here  
The fake scenes the plastic-made dreams  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it

_Say you don't want it, say you don't want it  
Say you don't want it, say you don't want it"_

**~Say you don't want it by One Night Only**

* * *

 

He had enough on his plate to contemplate. First he had to see his lady suffer at the expense of her husband and that new trollop the King had parading in public, his so called new Queen (Chapuys did not see how that whore's cousin could deserve the title of Queen) –Why –he thought many times –even the harlot had better decency, and that is saying a lot from a man who has seen it all, than this petty little thing the King decided to make his wife.

He did not want to attend that shameful ceremony of his lady's son's baptism but protocol required him to. The Emperor whom he had convinced, and he in turn managed to convince the "Regent" his headstrong female relative Mary of Hungary that it would be in their best interests to support Mary's son as the next heir, should His Majesty of course never begets another heir of his own besides Edward.

It was ridiculous the behavior that went around in Court. Whenever he would see that trollop dance, he would be reminded of Anne Boleyn.

It is Anne Boleyn all over again, he could hear the unconscious voice of his lady speak to him through quiet whispers just yesterday when she had been forced to relinquish one of her most valuable maids –she had been new to her service, Lady Jane Dormer.

His poor lady, she did not get the chance to pick whom to retire from her service forever. The Queen had decided she would get to pick and choose who to take and who to put in her place. What was worst out of all this sad tale was that the Duke, her so called husband, had allowed it! He thought outraged.

If he had been a man like Philip he would probably defend himself with the old excuse, it is better to be the devil's sides for one's sake than to be a thorn by his side. These last words were spoken to him by poor Sir Thomas. Good advise that gave him! He thought amused. Eustace had last seen him so devoted to the King and to Parliament's decision to make the Queen and the Princess not eligible to be in the King's line of succession. Unlike Eustace he did not believe the decision of the Pope had anything to do with Parliament. He believed in Parliament as he believed and admired the old Roman Senate more than a figure head, which was ultimately happened in Rome and sadly here in England. It was the whole reason why this was happening. Why this evil was infecting everyone's mind turning them into drones, and their hearts were being blackened turning into stones.

He had no problem with Humanism, he himself was devout to the humanist's cause to correct the world, but he knew that there was more to reality than words and romantic prose. As his old friend Erasmus would say, the world does not revolve around you and we are not the center of the world, much less Kings.

His words were never spoken or said to anyone else but to Eustace, maybe Thomas Moore considering Erasmus was very close friends and they often exchanged letters with each other.

His words if ever discovered would not only threaten a monarch's rule but also the foundation of which all monarchs base their rule –the Church.

The Church was God's order. And we were the lamb, his old mentor would say. He believed the Church to be the law and order that governed and should keep governing man. Without laws there could be no order, without order no peace, and without peace nothing but chaos and destruction would reign.

However Erasmus towards the end of his life it seems was creating a new religion for himself, in his last letter he spoke to Chapuys of fantastic gardens, an imaginary place where freedom reigned and the only King they had to worry about was God, but God was just and merciful as the people there, he called it Utopia, like Sir Thomas Moore's grand noble. A place where no one suffered, where everyone was of the same race, color, and where religion –his friend said in his letter- did not exist and so there were no factions and divisions, therefore no more bloodshed to worry about.

He had burned this letter. His friend deserved to be remembered for the long standing intellectual and man of reason he was known for, not for the raving lunatic who wrote this impossible place in his last minutes before succumbing to death's arms.

It was another secret out of many Eustace had he would take to his grave.

Mary of Hungary's last letter had been written in such a state of fury that he had trouble getting past her awful handwriting, a product of her strong emotion that she must have been victim of when she wrote this letter directed to the Ambassador that she had never approved of.

He felt the same way about her, the feeling was mutual there, if they could agree on something was that they disagreed on the measures each was taking when it came to establishing international relations between the Empire and England.

Mary of Hungary though more empathic to the Princess' plight was more vengeful and had been less pragmatic, though just as ambitions, as Charles V. She had been the bane in his bones that had been causing him to cringe every time he came across her letter, words like "incompetent", "useless" and "not enough" to depict her family member, now closer to the crown of England because of "her heretic son and husband" she had said, to divorce the Duke of Bavaria.

He was a potential threat to the political plans the Emperor and she had in mind for his lady. To tell the truth Chapuys had planned to follow Mary of Hungary's schemes as well. Tolerance, piety to heretics –bah!

Tolerance if such a word could ever be conceived, was not exactly in Eustace's dictionary or in his nature.

If there was one way, and he believed to be only one, to return England back to God was through piety and obedience to the Old and only True Church Universal Church of the world- through Catholicism.

His Lady for a fact he knew –still believed in the old ways, but hitherto because of her husband she could not act, it was required of her to be a good mother, to be a good teacher, to be loyal to husband and if she ever got to be Queen, she would be loyal to son, which meant she would only be Queen –if ever given this chance, miracle or as he liked to think of it now, curse- in name only.

Eustace here he was now then traveling to Hunsdon. He wished nothing more than to be avoided the inconvenience of being sent to that place by his master. But because his master and his closest of all family members, excluding his direct heir Prince of Asturias Philip of course, Mary of Hungary, commanded him he could not refuse.

Last time he had convinced his master and gone against all their best interests, including his, it had gone very bad for him, he could not afford to look weak or sentimental for a former Princess that was not worth anymore fighting and no longer within his range to influence or give advice.

All this time that he had spent in England, except the year he had been sent away and replaced by a poor imbecile by Mary of Hungary, he had been preparing the young Princess for when she would be Queen. God willingly he had prayed day and night that he would live to see it or at least hear about it. But Alas God had a quirky sense of humor. Now she was destined to be more than a puppet, her husband's puppet, as her son when he got older.

His eyes were beginning to show the drowsiness. Fleming could see it very well since he had been asked by his master to ride in the carriage with him. Fleming did not know why Eustace had asked him to, since the relationship between Master and subject had never been a close one –at least that was how he was sure Eustace viewed it.

Outside of first name basis in private, in public he would act just like any other arrogant arse who had airs of greatness. His master was really no different than any other master, with the exception of course that he lacked the arrogance and superiority feeling that many English ones had, noble born or not.

Some of his companions who worked or had been employed by His Majesty or his closest advisers considered Fleming lucky to get a master as lenient –their exact wording to describe Eustace- like the Imperial Ambassador.

He did not know if lenient was the correct word to describe Eustace Chapuys, perhaps less shrewd with him than with his other servants, including his much younger one the Spaniard Rafael, and more permissive than other lesser nobles or Ambassadors.

More he thought about the people he knew around Court, also servants, he found he was also lucky, if he had been placed in the service of the King or any other English Royal they would have kicked his arse all the way back to the northern part of England or sent him to Ireland as a punishment!  
 _'Heavens no!_ he thought, the idea of being sent to Ireland was the worst punishment a man (though low born) in his stature could have.

"How much longer?" Eustace grumbled.

Fleming heard but did not say anything, he rolled back on his master's comments and returned to his own worries.

The wine Eustace had drank earlier and the ham he'd had for breakfast, he could still feel the taste of them at the tip of his lips. He had eaten so fast he had not gotten a chance to clean the grease of the animal he had chewed from his lips. Naturally he licked them as a way to distract himself from the onset of worries going on in his head.

His main worry was what his lady's reaction would be once she read her cousin's letter?

No doubt, knowing her humors she would explode in anger.

But keeping a neutral face he pressed both his lips together forming a thin line.

The taste of the pork was gone once the carriage stopped and the driver stepped down to open the door for them.

Fleming got down first then Eustace.

* * *

(Eustace POV)

I had expected to see to see the Duchess and that odious Duke right away, but that insolent boy was nowhere to be seen.

Good riddance, I think, his presence would have suffocated me even more then when we were told we had arrived at Hunsdson.

Why couldn't the Emperor have kept Mary of Hungary's replacement, the Dean of Cambray, Maioiris?

He was an imbecile and yes a very poor replacement –I confirm to my mind who was not stopping its racking telling me that it was best that I stayed here after all.

I do not reply to the last part. Antwerp and especially Annency …

Oh how I miss that place … if there is a place that could resemble Thomas Moore's Utopia that would be Annency … and I will never say this to anyone but myself, but if I were to pick a spot to retire it would be Annency, my birthplace is all the only thing that I consider beautiful in this world.

I have seen too much malice and evil, if that word can be used to describe my whole experience in both Courts, the Imperial and the English. In one I have seen nothing but bigotry and malice, in the other nothing short comes to my mind to describe it but evil.

I believe all the English now to be nothing but mindless drones, those who control and rule the Country are nothing but evil men, for only evil men Wolsey was right, pray harder, kneel more and preach the Lord's words without fully knowing their meaning.

It is these devils that I have always warned milady to be wary of, to protect herself from them and that she can only trust in my advice and in her cousin's.

But now things are different, my mind whispers, she no longer trusts you.

Alas that is true.

Fleming came behind me, I was greeted by Lady Susan, there was a smile in her face to us as usual that made it feel like a Sunday at Church. I reminisce to all the times that milady has had it bad, there was always Susan there to take care of her, if there was one person that could be her "friend" or something close to that in this God-forsaken island it was Lady Claverenciux.

Susan spoke after the formalities had ended.

"I will see for the Duchess right away" and she left to call for the Duchess.

I can still not bring myself to think of her as Duchess even if I know that is her title now. My subconscious is very tricky, it presses me to call her Duchess to acknowledge her as such yet it tempts me at the same time in my dreams to call her Princess, a title I think she mostly deserves.

* * *

_"One of the things that I saw in Raise the Red Lantern a famous Chinese movie is that one of the main characters -Meishan the third wife and Mistress of the Master's house, suffers in the end for loving another. She dies and is left forgotten, punished with all the other women for their "disobedience". Since when do I ask has it become a sin to love another, to feel loved and wanted? Since when did it start that we became our own enemies, that instead of sisterhood we form divisions and devise new ways for us (the women) to attack each other? When is it that the line between right and wrong is drawn? Is it so difficult to find love, to act on it instead of choosing the worst of all options -that is to live a life of misery alongside a man who in like the Raise the Red Lantern sees us as objects, as nothing more than spare wombs to beget and raise his sons? When will we act, when will we rebel, when will we love?" ~_ **Me on Raise the Red Lantern, later commentary (07/09/2010)**

* * *

 

The 'Duchess' came quickly after Susan told her of their arrival.

They were in the living room where all her guest came in awaiting to be greeted by either her or her husband. Since Philip was not here as usual, and neither was her son (the King considered it best that his heir after Edward be given a household of his own, something that she had not agreed but knew it was necessary. She was aware of his important for the Wittelsbach and the Tudor Dynasty. The importance of being given a household could only mean her father was considering him for the line of succession, something that should please her but instead it only worried her for there were the Seymours and others to consider that were now closer to her son than she, his own mother! She thought distressed).

She pulled all the unnerving thoughts from her mind as she went to greet His Excellency.

Chapuys looked at Fleming.

Fleming knew well that look, he and Susan looked at each other and left Mary and Eustace alone.

"Any news from the Emperor?" She asked nonchalantly.

Eustace did not nod but his eyes confirmed it as he looked away.

That could only mean her cousin has stopped to consider the consequences and or benefits of her marriage and her offspring. If she did not know any better from her last talk with Susan, Mary of Hungary probably had a part to play in all of this.

Deciding that this was not the best place to discuss these matters, that and also her mind reminded her that the walls of her Household could have ears –considering that half of her servants had been replaced by Philip's own choice- she looked up to the Ambassador again and said:

"Would you like to go for a stroll Excellency?"

"I would like that very much" He responded.

The former Princess was very wise to decide to carry on their conversation in the Gardens where no one would look after them and could report back to her husband or worse, the King who was known lately for his excessive paranoia.

"You like this?" He suddenly asked, as he clutched his cane tighter. He realized they were now very far from the all seeing eyes of the servants (potential spies –came to his mind) of Hunsdon.

They had been walking for who knows how long now, and he had felt the gout in his pain surprisingly ease as they got closer to nature. England had its charms when there was none of the insufferable people he hated around.

Mary nodded. His question seemed out of place but she answered it anyway.

"Yes it brings me tranquility. Whenever I feel the world is eating me up I always come here, sometimes even to pray. Do you think that is odd?" She asked after seeing that confusion glance he gave her.

"Not at all Your Grace. If only I could have a place like that … I would be most fortunate"

He cut his sentence as a wave of pain crossed him.

Mary noticed it "Excellency" she said quickly coming to his side.

Chapuys threw a hand in the air shaking his head, and looking back up at her with a reassuring gaze. "It is fine. Really I am fine"

"You are sure?"

"Please Your Grace let us continue" He insisted, his voice very hard as his eyes pleading her to let the matter of his leg drop.

His plea was granted. She did her best not to take notice of the pain in his leg infected with gout but it was too difficult, and Chapuys noticed. Poor of his Princess, he thought, always selfless and still naïve at times, she always thinks of others before herself. That was what always worried him of her, and finally he decided he would voice these worries seeing that when they touched on the subject of her son and his importance to the Emperor.

Her gaze had shifted, there was no longer any neutrality visible, it had been replaced with dismay when he had said that the Emperor influenced (she thought) no doubt by Mary of Hungary had advised that she could work with Bishop Gardiner or others close to her father of their faith who could influence her son Philip in their faith so he would not be all Protestant as was Cranmer and her husband's intention.

"May I ask you something?" Chapuys suddenly asked after a minute of silence, that for her seemed to be an eternity, passed between them.

Mary saw no reason why he should not ask. In fact he always spoke out of turn when with her, it had already seemed natural that he never asked like any other commoner in his position would to a Royal like her, even a bastard one.

"Sure Excellency you don't have to ask"

He smirked. He wondered why any other man or him for that matter when he had first met her at Hatfield, could ever have felt intimidated by that naïve look. Maybe back then she had been more strong, there had been more of the fighter he had come to love about her –and- always admired. Now that fighter side of her seemed to be gone, something that he was not willing to accept.

It was time to bring that side of hers back.

"Do you think that you worry too much about what others Your Grace think of you because …" He stopped looking for a moment for any reaction, he saw none yet, though her eyes glazed with something akin of dismay, and her eyebrows rising up slowly already guessing what he would ask next.

"because what?" She asked not liking his sudden change of topic.

"Because you want to be loved or feel like you are more than important. Is that why you focus so much on how you look, walk, and in your knowledge because you feel it is the only way you can beat others?"

Mary's eyebrows rose up immediately after he finished his question.

"How dare you! You are just a commoner"

She was cut off rashly by him.

"A commoner you have always followed advise until you married that Duke …"

She was not going to have her insult her and then her husband, her new House why she ought to … but her wish to see him burning in flame never came as she realized he was still talking and his words as cutting edge as they were, were sadly all true.

"You really thought that you could have taught your son, if you have more yourself? None milady could have been that naïve, you have been through so much and yet you still believed you could be loved and obeyed as he was your subject because of you were of higher lineage than him?"

Nothing, no answer.

"In marriage it matters little who has higher blood or standing, you better than anyone should know that, just look at your parents milady!"

"I am not going to hear anymore of this!" She said angry that he was bringing her parents back again, she turned halfway through his speech as he ignored her words and kept shouting:

"… what will you do when you realize that all you are for him and your father is a bearer of children and nothing else?"

She shook her head, she stopped her tracks and turned back to him walking in his direction very fast, she didn't know how with this heartache that she was feeling.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

"Milady you better than anyone knew, you were warned, but it was your fear of being alone …"

"No! No!" She said to him, finally she collapsed and despite the pain in his leg, Chapuys threw his cane and caught her. It hurt him terrible to kneel with her, but he did so anyways not standing to see the tears in her face.

Her soul she felt became weak, and the more he tried to comfort her the more she backed away and so did her hope and her endurance.

As she kept sobbing and her salty tears touched her lips, Eustace decided he could not wait any longer it hurt him more than it did her, to see her like this, so vulnerable ...

Broken.

"My lady …" He began but he was cut of by her sobs that tore his heart each time when he heard them.

She had always been strong... she had cried before, never in anyone's presence but him, but she had always regained her composure, the jovial presence for which her mother that had naturally been passed on by her, was known for at Court. The Heretics, evil as they may be to her had respect for her because of her strength and her resourcefulness to always get past her father's strict laws and Cromwell's hawkish eye.

She had cried harder as he tried to touch her, she backed away and staring at him, more like glaring -he thought, with nothing more than pure hatred, she regained her voice and with pure disdain she said to him:

"You like seeing me like this."

He shook his head, how could she think that after all he had done for her? "No milady no it doesn't" He protested

In spite of her protests thrown at him, her eyes now pleading him to back away, she never fought against his strong arms that were holding her or giving her the warm comfort she had desperately needed.

Time passed, soon the stars were visible in the sky. Time for them however passed quickly, Mary had nearly fallen asleep in his arms, he kept rocking her like a newborn baby.

She felt very silly being this vulnerable especially in HIS presence.

However as she turned to look up at him did she notice a new look on his eyes.

No, it was not indifference, nor it was confusion or the confident look that always accompanied his reassuring smile … it was different.

Unaware she was bringing her lips closer to his, Eustace's own body acted on its own voalition and he leaned forward.

The kiss was not tender, careful like it had been on her wedding night with Philip nor passionless. It was much more than that …


	18. Dreamland

_"Fear is the most powerful weapon in the world. H P Lovecraft acknowledged this and it is the reason why his books focus more on the fear we have for the unknown, be those monsters or ourselves. Unlike love, fear never dies, it stays with us, when you think it is gone, it stays hidden deep within our hearts waiting for the right time when it takes hold of our minds leaving us blinded and deaf._

_If I were to chose between love and fear, or death and life I would chose fear and death. For in death there is peace and you see all your fears finally being gone, and if you are alive chose fear over love, for love is a path that is not painless, it is a path that cheats you and leaves you more than blind and deaf, it leaves you soulless once love is gone ... it does not last, it always goes away"_ **~Everyone goes away by Anonymous  
**

* * *

**Hundson**

**Tudor-Wittelsbach Household**

Back at Hunsdon in her mistress' chambers, Susan was sitting on a sofa worried. It was night and Mary was not yet back, and neither was the Imperial Ambassador.

Four hours and yet nothing. The night was against them. Their stroll should not have taken more than an hour, but the night sky had hit them pretty quickly.

Unknown to Susan who was more worried about what this could mean for her Mistress if word got out to her husband, far from where they could hear the gossip and feel Susan's heavy gaze, Eustace still had Mary on her arms, their kiss becoming ever more so enthralled into their burning passion that had finally been unleashed.

After years of repression, their feelings had finally unveiled themselves. As the kiss deepened Chapuys brought his hands to her waist pulling her closer to him.

It was a battle of the tongues that went on until it was the back of Chapuys' reason that told him to Stop, stop now before it was too late.

His hand up until that moment had not moved, until she had grant his tongue entrance into hers. His hand had moved now to her breast making her moan as pleasure kept manifesting itself along with the fixedness of the fascinated discovery that she experienced of having his lips travel all the way to her neck.

Her lips were soft and he was gentle taking it slow since the beginning of their kiss, but eventually all good things in Mary's life had to come to an end as he let her go.

"Ah-I-I" he did not know what to say, struggling to connect his brain with his mouth, he stood up and quickly bowed before her going for his cane and began to walk away not bothering to look behind him at her stunned and rejected figure.

Mary was shocked to see him like this.

What had just happened?

Had he felt so repulsed by their kiss? Was she that disgusting to him?

No, why could he not just tell her?

Tell it to her face, she mentally roared instead of just backing away. Why was it that just when she had experienced an ounce of freedom at his touch, a release of repression and the oppression she had experienced at Hunsdon all these months after her son's birth -did he have to crush her dreams? Why did he have to have the needle to burst her illusion? Was she not a woman, a human being who deserved to feel loved and wanted?

She wanted to lift herself up and run after him, ask him why was he pulling away from her, why not even a good bye or a gentle apology if he had felt he had violated her in some way -in which she would reply that was not the case- instead why chose to leave her there abandoned like her father and her husband?

Was he hat forlorn, so controlled by his masters that he could not look at her the same way before he left for Antwerp?

What had changed in his stance there? Since he had left he had barely mentioned her, she was barely there in his letters she was sure of it, it was like a huge hole had been punched through her chest and she felt hollow inside as his figure got little and more little making him unreachable as she stretched her hand pleadingly, mentally yelling "Eustace!"

* * *

(Eustace POV)

Why did you have to kiss her? Why did you have to kiss her? Why?

I don't know, I don't know, honestly I don't anymore what the hell I was doing.

All I could feel when she pulled her lips to mine and I later joined her effort to lock ourselves in a passionate kiss, was her touch, her breath, her rose red perfume. I knew that perfume, that scent very well. It was the same perfume she always wore in my presence.

Her presence itself was intoxicating, if she only knew what she was doing to me.

No other woman had done this to me, no one other, not even the first for whom I had given up my Holy Orders.

I was supposed to be a Bishop, but fate decided to give the post to someone else when I contested for it in Geneva, I was supposed to be an Ambassador, I was supposed to give her advise, but Mary of Hungary and my master they were always there between us, especially Mary of Hungary.

Ironic since she was the one who said supported most of the Princess' plight, but she never thought that I cared or was doing enough to help her. I told her many times that there was only so much I could do for the Princess, after all I was an IMPERIAL Ambassador, I had to respond to the Emperor not to the Princess, that lousy English King or Mary of Hungary, be that she was powerful among Charles' courts.

What could I have done to prevent the Princess from making the mistake of her life, marrying that ... imbecile -I think in outrage!

You could have done more, you could have stayed and resisted your masters (both of them Mary and Charles) advise.

Advise? I bark back at my mind as I find myself now inside the carriage, Fleming looking at me from outside the manor. He has just come out from it, with a questioning look. I don't say anything and I don't want him to start. All I want is to go away, and get far from this place as possible.

I tell the driver, more like yell actually, to drive. None of them, including Fleming ask me why (a relief thank God since that man asks everything!).

The country side of Hunsdon becomes more distant as the carriage speeds off. I don't look to the window anymore when I hear Fleming's nonchalant voice say "I don't see Hunsdon anymore" There is more to his words and looks that meets the eye. I know he is actually asking what has just happened by the way he looks at me with his eyebrows arched, one eyebrow slowly raising as his eyes were looking directly into mine.

I look away, what do I have to explain to a servant anyways?

The Kiss.

That Kiss ... I cannot help but feel the touch of her lips still one mine, and her tongue inside me, her breasts rising up when I touched them and her moans calling my name, my first name ... _Eustace..._

 

* * *

 

**Hunsdon**

Mary walked back her head lowered as tears streamed down her face reaching her neck, the same spot where he had ... kissed and felt his teeth and tongue made her hiss in pain as her salty tears touched that spot.

She had felt foolish, so foolish now.

 _I have finally lost it_ she said to herself. _All these years I have finally lost it._

When she got back she avoided the questioning looks of her servants, many, she had already identified whom, she knew were Cranmer's spies. Philip did not have the courage nor the guts to spy on her, he was noble and too good for that. Cranmer on the other hand ... she mentally snorted.

He had been Boleyn's chaplain, no doubt what he had seen there had made the naive little Heretic very cunning. Hever was different, she told herself, now it was under her husband's administration. But, she argued with her conscience. How can it be any different when that blasted Heretic keeps hanging there whenever he can thanks to my husband that never fails to greet him!

Philip was very noble, sometimes too noble for their own good. He thought everyone deserved a second chance. He did not see the real nature of humans like she and ... Eustace did.

Eustace ...

Unaware that the name had escaped from her lips when he had made contact with her skin on the right side of her neck, remembering this now she ran to her rooms ignoring Jane Dormer and her other ladies calling after her.

She locked herself in her room, she thought she would find solace her to cry and let her emotions be released but much to Mary's disappointment the room had not been deserted as she suspected.

Inside was Susan looking at her with a dangerous glance that assailed her.

There was a vision as Susan pierced into her soul as they locked eyes with each other, dark gray against her dark green, that allowed her to see what had happened. There was nothing more that she needed to ask as a gust of wind came to the room from one of the open windows in the bed chamber and removed a piece of Mary's hair covering the right side of her neck where HE had touched her.

Susan gasped, her eyes going wide.

Before she could speak and demand an explanation from her friend, Mary held a hand up and ran to Susan's side, her legs on their own volition carrying her as she spoke hurriedly, "Nothing happened, we only spoke I don't know what happened next, I was very upset for what he said and then ... then we ... it did not go past this trust me Susan it did not go that far, Eustace pulled quickly and -"

Susan was not stopped, her shock still visible however it shifted to horror when she saw how Mary's eyes lit up at the mention of the Imperial Ambasador.

Eustace, she had called him by his first name. Eustace! Susan thought horrified if word got out or if the walls ears were alert and heard her friend speak in this manner.

She grabbed Mary's arm "What did you say?"

Mary's eyes were narrowed and her eyebrows knitted in confusion "I said His Excellency and I-"

She was cut off once more by Susan.

"No" Susan shook her head. "I heard you right you called him on first name basis"

"So what if I did? He and I have known each other for so long and besides" she turned away from Susan and pulled away from her grasp going to her bed and lying down. "What do I need to tell you about this? This is something personal!" She emphasized the word personal as she looked met Susan's confused gaze.

"Mary what are you talking about? Do you have any idea if word gets out, or if your husband would have been here? You were lucky he is at Hever right now"

"Oh let him be at Hever! He is probably with my son there, he is always there now" her voice faded as she stared off into space.

"Mary! Mary!" Susan called but Mary kept her gaze up at the ceiling staring off into space ignoring Susan all the way.

"Ugh" Susan threw her hands in the air, she had never felt this helpless she felt she was talking to a rock. No, even a rock had more sense than Mary Tudor Tratasmara!

"Have it your way. Don't come running and crying to me when he sees you" Mary said nothing aware whom she meant by "he". She heard Susan heavy footsteps departing from her room and closing the door with a loud bang. She didn't bother to call Susan and ask her if she could please lock it, she knew her best friend and lady would do so.

* * *

_"One of the things that I have learned through time is that love can often be confused for pride and obsession. True love as Socrates would say is neither beautiful nor ugly, but instead pure love endures all obstacles" ~_ **Anonymous on Plato's Symposium**

* * *

 

**Hever Castle**

**Lord Philip The Younger's Household  
**

Meanwhile in Hever there was Philip enjoying what little time he could with his son Lord Philip. This little boy had become his life, his joy. He was a crowned jewel. He was HIS jewel, not Mary's or Henry's but his.

This boy would take after Bavaria and who knows if God wills it as his beautiful wife would say, one day he would unite the Palatinate, Bavaria and England forging a greater Empire in the same way the General Aeneas had done through his offspring.

His son giggled as he saw his father made a strange face. His eye brows quirked and then he let his tongue slip from his mouth as he made a mocking gesture to his son making him laugh even harder.

"You find that funny, someday you will make others laugh yourself. You are going to make a lot of people happy my son" Philip said as he began to rock the small babe in his arms. Few people in England appreciated songs on Latin or Greek, or any language other than their own for that matter. It was something he and his dear cousin, dear and sweet Anne would often discuss.

Poor Anne -he thought. She had been sweet and her voice it was like symphony of tears hidden behind that great smile of hers. She could always make every day feel like a merry Sunday. Mary knew her death had changed him, and it did. He would never forget her screams of childbirth every day when he went to sleep. People thought him and Mary had the perfect life, the perfect marriage that they would be perfect parents.

Mary had always had the stigma of being called the rebellious daughter, the disobedient, imprudent child, this was her chance she probably felt to rectify all her past mistakes and offenses done to her father, but whenever he brought the subject of their child's education and their future visits to Hever she always turned away, tilted her head walked to her window and with quiet, barely audible voice she would say _"And why should I?"_

The woman he had married had become completely unrecognizable from the young and kind, sweet woman he had fallen in love with, the woman whom Anne had come to admire and drew her strength from as well.

As if sensing something wrong, young Philip began to wail, Philip turned down to his son. He had not noticed how deep in thought he had been that he had now been the cause for his son's wailing.

"Shh calm down" he said in his native tongue. Young Philip often proved for him very hard to calm down. He yelled for his mama, his first words were mama. A very bright child who could already speak and not even a year old!

How could he explain to him if Mary's cold behavior continued, that his mother did not want to come? What excuse would he give the small child when he began to use reason? That his mother hated all heretics, that she would hate him because he was one?

No, he would make an effort to have Mary understand that she could not keep opposing the whole world just because she saw an enemy in every so called 'heretic'.

She had married her, she had made a vow to him, to honor, to serve and to obey. She better than anyone knew how fast the weather could change in England, how fast her father could be displeased if his young wife were to speak against her. And then there was another thing that worried Philip -the Imperial Ambassador. He didn't like to have Mary spend too much time to him, and that she wasn't reporting any of her conversations with that man to him, her husband the man she had a responsibility to be filial with not to Chapuys or her old principles.

As he sighed his son he realized had closed his eyes and turned his head to the opposite direction of his father, falling asleep.

Phillip returned his son back to his silver cradle where he let his son rest in the land of Morpheus.


	19. New Paths are Forged

_"Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking_   
_When you fall everyone sins_   
_Another day and you've had your fill of sinking_   
_With the life held in your_   
_Hands are shaking cold_   
_These hands are meant to hold_

_Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong_   
_Move along, move along like I know you do_   
_And even when your hope is gone_   
_Move along, move along just to make it through_   
_Move along_   
_Move along_

_So a day when you've lost yourself completely_   
_Could be a night when your life ends_   
_Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving_   
_All the pain held in your_   
_Hands are shaking cold_   
_Your hands are mine to hold_

_Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong_   
_Move along, move along like I know you do_   
_And even when your hope is gone_   
_Move along, move along just to make it through_   
_Move along_   
_(Go on, go on, go on, go on)_

_When everything is wrong we move along_   
_(Go on, go on, go on, go on)_   
_When everything is wrong, we move along_   
_Along, along, along_

_When all you got to keep is strong_   
_Move along, move along like I know you do_   
_And even when your hope is gone_   
_Move along, move along just to make it through_

_(Move along)_   
_(Go on, go on, go on, go on)_   
_Right back what is wrong_   
_We move along"_ **~Move along by All American Rejects  
**

* * *

**1541, December 21st  
**

**Yuletide Celebrations**

**Hampton Court Palace:**

I myself after Susan retired to her own chambers, went to my own chambers with my son in my arms and my husband next to me. Philip said that I should let our son walk on his own, but I as not so sure of it. Philip was still too young for that, he was not even a year old yet, why put so much pressure on a little boy who is barely talking now?

His first words it pained her that she was not there to hear them when he called for his "mama".

Philip had said that she would have been very proud to hear him speak, to repeat like a parrot everything in very well articulated words, not even a fault or an accent that most babies possessed. His son, he had said emphasizing the noun "His", would make them all very proud.

Just who would he make proud? Himself or the father who clings to the heir (should Kitty fail to produce another son for my father) of England and Bavaria and many other German states? Mary thinks as she watches her son being taken by his nurse maid Elsa de Goya.

Her name was not what she appeared to be, a loyal English maid, Catholic and good servant of Christ. She was as Mary had discovered a month ago -Jewish, one of those who had converted, what her mother used to call conversas.

Her mother who was as pious as a good Christian woman, wife and servant of our Lord Jesus Christ must be to fulfill a good life that God means for all of us, be that woman or man, had always told her daughter to be wary of false prophets and Christians.

_"They will deceive you hija [1] and they will pretend to be your servants, some even your friends, but never ... never mi querida hija [2] must you trust them"_

Those were her mother's wise words, but there comes a time to all of us, Mary acknowledges when she found out about Elsa's true parentage that we must accept that our parents are not Gods, they are humans as all of us and prone to make mistakes, including the wrong judgment on those their human peers.

Elsa might be a Jew still at heart, but in practice she was a Good Christian and practiced all of our Lord's teachings, that was enough for Mary and if that was enough for Mary then it was more than enough for Philip and the rest of **their** household.

"Mistress de Goya" Philip said addressing _his_ son's chief nursemaid by her real name. "I trust my son will be handled well in your care"

Elsa did not reply what she wanted to say for decades to now to men of his _poor_ breed. She abstained from it and instead lowered her head in respect to her Mistress' husband. "Of course Your Grace" she said and moved away as the Master dismissed her.

Carrying the infant in her hands, Philip the Younger feeling safe in his nursemaid's arms, disappeared from Mary's sight as Elsa and the others headed to the nursery that much to Mary's displeasure and not to Philip's was located next to the Queen's chambers.

Philip smiled as the door behind them closed. They had all these big rooms just to themselves, finally he thought.

"What are you smiling about?" She asked giving Philip a quick grin that disappeared as heavy knocking made them turned into the door's direction.

Who could it be at this time -went in both their minds.

Soon the riddle was solved as Philip opened the door to reveal the Queen Consort Katherine Howard and three of her closest maids, Joan Bulmer, Katherine Ferguson and Jane ... Mary could not remember. Kitty had so many ladies in waiting that she couldn't keep up with names or the silly nicknames they gave to each other.

This "young _lady" ... this fool_ she thought looking at her with disdain as Philip greeted her and gave her nothing but praises that Katherine later returned to him as in the sweetest voice she asked for her husband if she could have a moment alone with his wife.

Please say no, please say no, she mentally begged however Philip did all the contrary, bowing once more in front of the Queen, she extending her hand for him to kiss her, mainly she lifted her index finger where the ring that had adorned many Queens before, three of them the greatest women Mary had met, which included her mother, the true Queen of England anointed by a true servant of Church, Katherine of Aragon. Philip kissed it, watching in astonishment as the Queen's eyes sparkled, the sunlight that escaped from one of the open windows illuminating her perfect forehead making her appear more godly.

A true Queen, Philip thought. God may bless her for a Duke of York, otherwise it would be his son the greatest King England and Bavaria would have forming a greater Empire than any other who stood before him.

"Milady" he turned to Mary "Your Highness" he said later turning later to Kitty as he headed for the door "I leave you two ladies alone. God bless -he said lastly giving the Queen and then his wife a dashing smile. He had been so enthralled by the special effects of the sun shining on the Queen's forehead that he had failed to notice his wife's cold stare at the Queen.

Kitty huffed after hearing the door closed.

"Your Grace" She said to Mary.

"Your Highness" Mary said in the same evenness as Kitty.

It was time, Kitty felt for her to break the ice for this spoiled princess. She was tired of the Princess recoiling at her presence, failing to show her the proper respect that she received from every other subject, including her stepdaughter's husband, the dashing Philip of the Bavaria.

Why was it that this Princess, this Duchess now could not acknowledge her or call her by her proper title? All she heard from this little woman was Madame or milady, never Your Majesty or show her the same respect, bowing to greet her, kissing the royal ring in her finger that Henry had given her like the rest of her noble peers!

Maybe if Anne of Cleves would still be amongst the living, young and frivolous Kitty Howard would have learned a lot, far more then what she was learning from her mindless ladies and that opportunist Jane Rochford whom I was sure the only reason why she was chief of her ladies in waiting was to keep check on the young Queen who in her opinion was nothing more than a ordinary girl whose only purpose in life was to please, please and please.

"Why is it that everyone here shows me respect minus you. Your husband has been most gracious with me and your father, I have even shown your kindness, given your son rooms in the Royal nursery next to my chambers ..."

She heard her, her voice sounding nothing more but a quack.

Quack, quack and more quacks escaped from her mouth, yet Mary kept her steady gaze never loosing sight of her.

She wondered what any man could have seen in somebody so shallow as Kitty Howard?

When Kitty finally stopped waiting for an answer to come from her rebellious stepdaughter, hoping that her reprimand would scare her away or make her feel like she was cornered, she became disappointed.

"Excuse me but I give every noble and honorable lady every ounce of respect she deserves for honor demands nothing but respect" She said quoting from the classics, something Kitty no doubt did not know.

Kitty's eyebrows twitched.

"Are you implying that I am not worthy of respect?" She inquired crossly.

"I am implying nothing Madame-"

She was cut off by Kitty's squealing duck like voice.

"Oh no you don't" she said in dismay, raising her voice higher than before.

Just who was this woman to raise her voice at somebody like her, a woman who was so much above her? A woman daughter of Kings and Queens, whose Royal lineage should have made her bow before her not the other way around. Why Kitty now looked more ordinary than ever raising her voice like she was a common wench.

Nothing better, her inner voice said as she snorted inwardly at Kitty's last words, to expect from Anne Boleyn's cousin!

Kitty standing with her three mindless maids behind her, was waiting for an answer and the more Mary took her time to answer, the more desperate Kitty grew. She took a step forward and her golden crown, the same Mary recognized that Anne had used many times in her father's banquets when she had pretended to be his "wife", made her figure taller than the Princess.

This was Kitty's defense mechanism, her overpowering figure was nothing more than a mask like all the dances or festivals she organized or was part of.

Mary could see through her. She might carry herself with the same grace that her cousin did to deceive others from her true nature but she could see right through her hollow eyes. In the end she was nothing more than a chameleon.

"Well?" Kitty called her voice higher, if that was even possible that she could make her squealing more annoying.

"I have nothing to say Madame-"

"Queen of England" cut Kitty Howard reminding Mary that she was much above her in status and in affection now.

Mary could not believe that she was having this girl overpower her, and that she had to stand her ladies' awful snickering as they covered their mouth to hide them.

"I have nothing to say Madame, for I show respect to those who deserve it and never fail to please our Lord the King of England" Mary said at last revealing her true sentiments for the so called Queen of England.

She would remind herself later to pray twelve Hail Marys. It was never her intention to refer to her father as a magnanimous figure, for he was not he was just a man, nothing more and he was not above canon law or God, that was only for the Vicar of Christ, the true Pope in Rome to decide.

Kitty gasped as did her other maids.

The Queen of England having been reduced to yelling, even begging for an answer. This was an outrage! So unfair, Kitty thoguht.

"Are you saying I don't please?"

"You do please" Mary said nonchalantly. "In fact" she cleared her throat letting herself be carried away by her anger towards this young girl. "In fact all you do is please, your whole purpose Madame it seems is nothing more than to please and please, that is not the behavior a Queen of England" a proper one she wanted to say, "adopts"

Kitty threw her a smug look, stomping her foot on the ground feeling more insulted now by her eldest stepdaughter. Mary saw this as a poor display of her impetuous behavior.

"Hmmph" Kitty said. "If I do nothing but please and please then why did His Majesty marry me then?"

My God, Mary thought saying the Lord's name in vain. Is she really that naive?

"Isn't it obvious?" She said icily her eyes traveling to the Queen's stomach "The King of England needs a male heir, and for what I see you are not pregnant yet. A lady behaves in her best behavior for she is not lying with just any man but with the King of England whose flesh is sacred and so is hers for she is above any woman, no matter how below her bloodline truly is"

She had hit a nerve there.

She would have stopped there, if His Excellency or any other, including her husband were in her position would have stopped by now if not before.

Mary just had to keep on going, hoping that this poor creature could finally see the light of reason.

"A Queen does not dance merrily why the King suffers, she knows better"

As my gaze shifted back to her face which was now stricken with shock and her eyes were in dismay as she brought a hand to her non-swollen abdomen Mary realized she had hit more than one or two nerves, she had hit her right where she wanted, in her pride.

Kitty let her hand dropped and looked back up at her.

"What about you?" she suddenly asks Mary, her eyes holding nothing more than a sly twinkle as the venom that would later pour from her voice.

"What about me?" Mary sounding nonchalant as when their "conversation" started.

"I think you are jealous aren't you?" she asked, though Mary knew it was more than a question, it was a statement.

Mary did not answer.

She did not have to as Kitty ever feeling more triumphant now walked one step forward, now just an inch closer Mary could feel her intoxicating perfume, yet Mary did not cringe or back away.

"You are jealous because you used to be the center of her father's attention, because you used to have a Household of your own and now that all your freedom is gone, so is your father's affection"

Mary did not respond. Kitty -voila she thought- had hit a tender spot there in the Princess' heart.

Victory now more evident in her eyes she continued "I have your father, your husband, your sister and your son-"

"No!" Mary suddenly spoke loosing all patience when the twit mentioned her son.

She will never have my son, she thought. "You will never have him!"

"I don't need to" Katherine said as it was the most obvious thing in the world to Mary. "Now that he is moved next room to mine, having a son or not, he will become our son, England's son and you will do nothing about it."

Mary breathed hard, suppressing the urge to shout more at her, from the bottom of her heart it became harder to do so as she saw Kitty look behind her, her maids laughing once more (this time more discreet though the dirty blond who could easily pass if she was not too short as Kitty's double, Joan Bulmer, covered her mouth not able to hide her mocking of Mary) all later covering their mouths as their Mistress laughed lightly, her venomous glare feeling now heavier at Mary.

Kitty looked now like the cat who had just ate the pigeon.

Mary never felt more humiliated in her life. How dare those maids laugh at her, and how dare that mindless twit encourage them! Who did she think she was? She thought feeling more indignant.

"Perhaps I won't need to tell His Majesty to let me and your husband be in charge of his education, I am sure Cranmer will do a fantastic job after all he is your husband's choice" She said more venom spitting from her thin lips.

She and her ladies looked at each other and turned to leave, as Mary watched them leave, her fists tightened and she released her emotions of anger and hatred for her father's wife.

"How dare you?" She said protesting. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

Kitty turned to her stepdaughter and walked to her. "I dare because I can, and I can do something else too" She said her venom returning as a clever idea passed through her head. "I can remove as punishment for now showing His Majesty's wife respect, two of your maids"

Mary finally showed emotion, her eyebrows rose as her eyes went wide in surprise.

No, she cannot do that. But she could, and Kitty knew that victory was finally achieved.

"I think that will be all, have a nice day ... Lady Mary" she said in mock sweetness leaving her title aside and calling her by her formal title of bastard of the King.

There was nothing she could but recoil in anger after the Queen and her mindless ladies left her room.

* * *

Philip entered their rooms moments later after he had been with their son, later being accompanied by a cheerful Kitty Howard in the Royal Nursery.

"You should go I will stay with our German Prince" Kitty had said in the sweetest tone yet, convincing him that his son would be safe and sound with his loving stepmother.

Philip had not been aware nor he was expected to as Susan followed him, throwing a dirty glance at Kitty's favorite maid, Joan Bulmer. If God, if there was one, never made mistakes then why oh Lord she asked, did you create that moron Joan Bulmer? She was the worst choice for a Queen of England to have amongst her closest ladies. Not only she was stupid, she was useless. She was not pretty, she didn't even posses the looks to attract another man or serve as a mistress for her Queen to use in case her husband were to tire of her in times of pregnancy. The Queen of England was surrounded by nothing but mindless twists, all skin and bones, mindless ladies.

Susan was not surprised when she and Philip entered her friend's chambers, Philip the only one of the three gasping, astonished to see his wife throw the bible at their bed's direction.

"What in the blazes -Philip began but was stopped by Mary who had not taken notice of his presence until she heard his gasp.

"I am forced to have two of my maids dismissed!" She said. "It is not fair!" She whined unpacking from her closet a large suitcase.

"Mary what do you think you are doing?" Philip asked. She could not seriously be considering leaving in the middle of the winter celebrations or Yuletide ... whatever they were called, that would seriously cause his father to be displeased with her, and with him as well as he was responsible for her as she was now part of his family.

"Think this through sweetheart what did you say?" He asked going to her and putting both his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm his wife down.

"Shh ... please tell me what she said, please Mary tell me" he urged.

"She said that she would permanently retire two of my maids ... apparently" she said choked with anger as she recalled her words. "I am not treating her with enough respect" she said furiously snagging away from Philip and going back to her closet where she began to pull much of her wardrobe and began throwing it into the suitcase not even bothering to check what was she was taking to her to Hunsdon.

"Mary I am sure that if you were to talk to her, she can be reasonable ..."

Mary looked at him as if he was barking mad.

"Me conciliate is that what you want me to do? Who do you think she is to give me those orders, I am the King of England's daughter, I am Katherine of Aragon's daughter, I am granddaughter of the Great Catholic Kings ..."

Philip sighed his patience beginning to wear as his wife went on preaching about her "Royal" lineage.

Finally when she finished he said, not raising his voice, but the discontent in making the Queen of England unhappy with her evident. "She is the Queen of England Mary, imagine if she were to tell your father, what this could mean for you, for me ... for us and for our son"

Mary looked away.

"I will not apologize if that is what you are suggesting"

Philip's hand went straight into his temple "Mary you are impossible, you realize she has your father wrapped around her finger, what she can do is-"

He was cut off by Mary "She has also wrapped you very well around her finger" she mentioned crossly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"She has wrapped everyone, everyone who respected me, just when I was having my father's respect even if it was only because of a son, now she has you to" she went on, "having praising her of course why wouldn't she be returning the favor, being our son's Godmother, deciding what clothes he will wear, whom he will be taught her. Honestly Philip I thought you would be the man for that!"

"Just wait a second there and stop, I am not wrapped under her spell"

"Then why do you praise her like she is Venus reborn then?" She inquired throwing another crossing glance at him.

"Because Mary" he answered "I know she is the fucking Queen of England, what she does reflects your father's attitudes and the Country's and I don't know about you _honey_ but I don't think it is smart to have the Queen of England who controls your father better than he has ever done so himself or Cromwell for that matter, mad at us, starting by you. His favor is very quick to fade, one day we could be raised higher than everyone at Court, the next we can fall just like the Boleyns."

How dare he compare them to the Boleyns, those snakes!

Knowing exactly what she thought he went on further, "If you want to conciliate with your father Mary start by acting civil to her, if you don't do it for my sake since you care so little about that now, unless do it for your son, show him you are a mother" He finished leaving her alone with only Susan as he slammed the door.

She did not need to ask herself where could he go? To their son no doubt. Now it was her son who was the center of everyone's attention, including Philip's. Mary had been replaced by a baby, she had been replaced by her own son!

* * *

 _"An old Chinese proverb that says that when a woman is born she is subject to her father, when she marries she is subject to her husband, and when she becomes a widow she is subject to her eldest son. No truer words were spoken."_ ~ **World Women under Iron rule by Anonymous**

* * *

Eustace did not want to cross the Princess' chambers. They had not spoken to each other since ... IT had happened. But for some reason he had felt a need to pass through that corridor that -he told himself- was the quickest way to reach his chambers.

There was another reason, one Eustace would never admit to himself, but today at Court when he had watched everyone, and much to his chagrin Marillac there as well very close to the Queen and the Courts' most influential, he had missed sight of the Princess. She was nowhere to be seen.

Her husband was there, even some of her ladies, including her son's nursemaid, Mistress Elsa carrying Lord Philip the Younger in her arms, but nowhere was his lady found.

Jane had eyed him very strangely, he wanted to ask her what was going on, why the Princess and her best lady in waiting, Lady Susan, were not there next to her son. But as clutched his cane heading for her direction Philip turned to look at Eustace, his look bearing nothing but disdain and contempt at him. He snorted inwardly at this boy, if he thought that could scare him clearly he was still very inexperienced. It would take more than a cowardly cat's weak stare to drive him away. Nonetheless not wanting to cause a scene at Court, he walked another way but not before throwing Philip an icy glare.

He had bumped to Marillac before heading for his chambers. That French Excellency, a man who was lousy beyond anything Eustace could find, had laughed lightly at him before asking him about the Princess, _"Curious isn't it that the Duchess is nowhere to be found?"_

He was no fool, he knew what Marillac was up to however he did not reveal anything of what he felt. In a court this dangerous he knew better then to show his emotions, for he could fall prey to the vultures present, including foreign ones like Marillac very easily, but he looked at Marillac smug nonetheless as he had replied, _"When leaves fall it might be that since many tress still have leaves to fall the Princess might be interest in more interesting activities, like the world around her instead of the experience of Court"_

The expression on Marillac's face was priceless, really he wanted to burst out in laughter as Marillac stood there with a stupefied look asking him the most stupid question he had ever heard anyone ask, and he had heard many! _"Do you take me for a fool?"_

Eustace ignoring the annoyance found in Marillac's tone shook his head, grinning at Marillac before leaving replying and not bothering to check for his next expression, _"No Excellency, you are what you are and I am what I am."_

It had been the greatest and more intelligent thing Eustace had done all day, to remove himself from the Court's presence and especially from Marillac's, though he would have paid a huge amount of money just to see the expression on that man's face! It must have been priceless.

The leaves of the trees, now where had he come up with that, Eustace asked himself? He should have been a comedian like the old Greek comedian and philosopher Aristophanes, his lady's favorite.

Alas life in England and in the Imperial Court was not as easy as it was in ancient times when the Greeks who were well learned were free (though with some restrictions) to parody their cities' governments. If only they could return back to the old times, excluding the old paganism, Eustace would have a field day parodying Marillac all day and best of all he would be paid for it and he would not have to battle the King, Cromwell and everyone in this bloody Court at the same time.

He paused as he realized he had reached his lady's chambers, the chamber she shared with Philip, however the only thing she could hear from those chambers were her voice filled with anger and frustration and Lady Susan's.

Surely by now Philip should be coming any moment, the man could not leave his wife all alone when she had been very distraught? Could he?

The door it was half opened, and not able to resist his curiosity, he opened it more and entered the chamber without permission.

"Milady" He called as he clutched his cane even tighter as another wave of pain hit his leg. He did not heed the warning signs knowing that this meant it would only get worse, hearing his lady's frustrations were more important than his old gout, a condition he told himself he could handle any moment. His lady's frustration he could not and he would not stand until he would find out the reason behind that frustration.

"Mary you do not need to pack everything, it is like you want to live in Hunsdon forever!" Susan said.

"If you don't want to come then I will go alone-"

"Oh come on Mary don't be very grouchy, why don't you ask permission ..."

She was cut off by Mary, "I am tired of asking for permission. I could care less now, besides my father has my son, and my husband has my son as well to keep him company, they have my son to keep everyone company including that twit!"

Susan was about to reply when she felt the presence of somebody behind her. Susan jumped in surprise to see the Imperial Ambassador, His Excellency staring at her and then looking behind her shoulder at her Mistress in confusion.

Susan shrugged wryly as she saw the look he threw on her.

What more could she say to explain for Mary's behavior?

"What is going on here?" He said not bothering to announce himself.

There was his lady with books in her hands suddenly coming to a stop as she saw His Excellency.

So now him, she thought dropping her books on the trunk.

"Madame what is wrong?"

"Haven't you heard, news travel fast. Apparently I don't treat _Her Majesty_ with enough respect so she made me retire two of my maids!" She says looking more frustrated with his presence now, and going back to her packing.

He sighed. "Madame what exactly happened?"

"Oh what does it matter" she says not looking at him as she continued her packing emptying almost all her closet.

"Madame I am sure that if you found some way to conciliate with her the maids could be placed back into your service" He began but Mary finally looking at him, fury blazing in her eyes yelled harder then she ever did before.

"I don't want to conciliate!"

She went to her vanity, just next to her closet. "Why should I?" she asked to no one in particular, now more lightly. Her head lowered, he could hear sniffling. There were tears, even if he could not see her, he knew they were there.

Susan and him shared a look, he nodded to her and Susan left the room, now his Mistress in the care of the Ambassador, she closed the door locking it so one would be able to disturb them.

"What did she say to you?" He asked right after Susan had locked the door for them.

Sniffling harder, struggling to breath as the hole in her chest that she thought had been cured with her son's presence since they ... kissed said in a low and hurt voice, "She said that I am jealous because my father and everyone have her now and that is in greater favor than me, and that my child ..." she sniffed harder "if he can recognize me because his care will never be my decision but hers and my husband ..."

She went to the bed where she sat tears finally visible.

"She should not have said that"

"But it is true" She said softly more tears escaping. "It is all true, I have been supplanted by her and now by my son"

Eustace clutched his cane, now his nails digging deep into the black wood as he felt a cool substance escape from his nails. He did not care for the physical pain he was causing himself, it was nothing compared to what she was feeling.

He walked to her taking a seat next to her on the bed she shared with her husband, the previous place where she had thrown her husband's English bible.

Never hesitating, they looked at each other and the former Princess moving closer to his side as he put an arm around her, buried her head in his chest, beginning to cry even harder.

"My sweet lady ... my poor sweet lady"

He let his cane fall as he decided to place his now free arms on her hair, running his hand through it. Her beautiful, soft, light, sometimes dark like right now in the dead of the night, brown hair. He could still smell the rose perfume she always put on it.

He did not cradle her like last time or rocked her back and forth for she was not a baby, and she was not in need of pity, but she was in need of comfort and that was what he would give, even if he had to sacrifice his health -for her he told himself he would.

They were the only ones in the room he saw again. Between running his hand on her hair and calming her down, he noticed that it must have been more than an hour for the moon which had not been visible covered by thick dark clouds when he got there, was not visible, its beautiful light shining on them as if by a miracle it made his lady slowly close her eyes and fall under a deep sleep. Here he realized that her husband was not coming, he was going to leave her alone.

Eustace, he could leave her alone, he felt uncomfortable, he didn't know why but this woman, this beautiful woman, this moon goddess, she had done something to him -she had bewitched him, he could speak or think clearly whenever he was near her. Worst was that she did not know that she was doing it! Even now when she was asleep she still managed to put him under her spell, his eyes were never removed from her ... he could hear her breathing, her heartbeat, he loved the way it sounded and he could smell her, a beautiful smell, not just perfume, a scent that was intoxicating.

Honor, dignity, duty nothing matter to him anymore.

He carried her in spite of the throbbing pain in his leg further to the bed where he could lay her down on top of her pillows where she would find herself in better comfort. He briefly pulled away making her stir, almost as in protest.

Finding himself uncomfortable with his boots still, he took them off and then as he continued to slide next to her he pulled the covers on top of them, covering them both but mainly her.

A smile formed as she stirred, coming closer to him almost as if her body had a will on her own even in this sleeping state, when she felt his embrace returning. He smiled back, as he pulled a strand of hair off her face he took a better look on her peaceful features, memorizing every line, every gesture on her face.

She was beautiful, gorgeous, sheer wonder and godliness, could not describe the creature that was before him. She seemed unreal ... all of this seemed unreal. He did not belong with her, men his age, a man his stature did not belong with someone like her, whose body was most than sacred, it was godsend.

However he never let go, he stayed with her for the rest of the night, never once did he closed his eyes, he waited until morning came, staring off into her closed eyelids, being captured by her beautify and the moon shining down on her, the moonlight reflecting more of her godly features, her perfect rosy and pronounced lips, her well trimmed eyelashes and her wavy hair that had escaped from her snood after he pulled it off.

As the sun was rising, and its rays hit Eustace's eyes he realized it was time to go.

Gently he pulled away. The smile got even wider as he began to sat up and head for his boots and cane.

"Eustace" She said making him stop dead in his tracks after he had put on his boots. He turned to his lady's direction, there was a pale face now more evident with a smile more pronounced as it got wider when her arm stretching to the side of where he laid, she spoke his name one last time "Eustace"

The throbbing pain he had felt earlier in his leg all disappeared and now the only throbbing pain he felt was not in his body but in his soul, as it became harder for him to turn away and leave her.

But watching her stir even more and her eyes beginning to open, it took all the self control of his emotions not to fall prey for them like he had at Hunsdon months ago. He carried himself fast he could, cane in hand to head for the door before she would wake up and question over his stay with her.

Susan had locked the door from the outside but not from the inside, he silently opened it up and looking first at the hallway to make sure it was completely deserted, once he made sure it was he walked from her chambers and closed the door carefully so it would not wake her.

* * *

Mary stirred, her hands stretched out more as they seemed to be roaming searching for something to the left side of her bed. She opened her eyes, she looked around, her arms going to her head. She felt a great headache.

She sat up, it was morning already she could feel the light of the sun on her, it felt warm as if it the sun's rays were enveloping her in a warm embrace.

Embrace ... Eustace!

She thought jumping as she sat up in her bed, putting her pillows against her back, so she would have a comfortable place to prop her back against.

Eustace ... her mind whispered.

Where was His Excellency?

She remembered coming, comforting her, telling her nothing but three plain words that had made her fall asleep as the moon had become visible after a long period of shedding tears after she had buried her head in his chest.

Surely he should be here, for she was sure his presence had been with her all night, either wise why was the left side of the mattress all sunken like another figure besides her had slept on it all night.

He had been here with her, he had to be, otherwise where did all the warmness from her body had come from?

* * *

 

**[1] Hija -Daughter in Spanish**

**[2] Querida hija -Dear daughter in Spanish**


	20. Pariah: Perdition over Power

_"You only see what your eyes want to see_  
How can life be what you want it to be  
You're frozen  
When your hearts not open

 _You're so consumed with how much you get_  
You waste your time with hate and regret  
You're broken  
When your hearts not open

 _Mmmmmm, if I could melt your heart_  
Mmmmmm, we'd never be apart  
Mmmmmm, give yourself to me  
Mmmmmm, you hold the key

 _Now there is no point in placing the blame_  
And you should know I suffer the same  
If I lose you  
My heart will be broken

 _Love is a bird, she needs to fly_  
Let all the hurt inside of you die  
You're frozen  
When your hearts not open

 _Mmmmmm, if I could melt your heart_  
Mmmmmm, we'd never be apart  
Mmmmmm, give yourself to me  
Mmmmmm, you hold the key

 _You only see what your eyes want to see_  
How can life be what you want it to be?  
You're frozen when your hear is not open

 _Mmmmmm, if I could melt your heart_  
Mmmmmm, we'd never be apart  
Mmmmmm, give yourself to me  
Mmmmmm, you hold the key

_Mmmmmm, If I could melt your heart  
Mmmmmm, we will never be apart_

_Mmmmmm, give yourself to me_  
Mmmmmm, you hold the key  


_If I could melt your heart"_

**~Madonna, song: Frozen**

* * *

 

**1542, January 29** **th**

**Hunsdson:**

When the sun set so high Mary welcomed it, the higher it was the hotter, and when it was hot Mary knew it could only mean one thing: that she could travel back to Hunsdson, alone.

She felt guilty for not wanting her son Philip near her, but it was better this way –she told her self –at least this way you can be alone with yourself, only with yourself and the people you trust. Susan, her new lady in waiting, Jane and Sophie, her most trusted maids to keep her company. They would not complain, except maybe Susan at times, but she would be at peace.

Free from the cries, free from her uncontrollable sobs and not have to bother Philip or her other ladies all the time, and best of all there would be no Kitty Howard!

The name of that woman, every time Mary said it she imagined herself beating her for what she had dared to say to her. She! A Princess, born and raised, insulted by a mere wench who pretended to act like a Queen? Why –what had passed through her father's mind when he married that trollop?

She was laying back, her back propped against the pillow when her maid, Sophie Tattou told her that Ambassador Chapuys was waiting for her in the living room. She went downstairs; there he was seated comfortably in the sofa cane still in hand.

"Excellency" She acknowledged.

"Your Grace" he said in return, the warm smile coming from the Princess' lips brought one to his face too.

Much had happened but seeing this change of attitude in her, brought him all his past problems to disappear into oblivion.

It was good to see her face again, he realized. And more so now that he would give her even better news. Mary of Hapsburg at last was acknowledging the marriage, now in accordance with his Master she was proposing one of their own Austrian heirs as future bride for the next possible King of England, that be –he hoped and prayed constantly to God for- that the Queen did not bear the King any more male heirs.

One sickly boy whose hair would fall before he could reach puberty (if he reached puberty –he thought cynically) would be enough. England did not need more heretics or sickly boys like that pale boy Edward, whom he feared would grow to be every inch like his uncle, manipulated by that heretic revolutionary who claimed he was fighting for God's principle.

Bah! God's principle what did those men know about God, or his Holy Gospel? Who were they to interpret it? He had better education, by the best Masters in all Europe, than them. What could they know, what authority did they have to change the world? The order of things was the way it was for a reason, it was not their purpose to question it but to obey without question.  
That was the destiny of all humanity, it was the Will of God –he told himself- the will of his Holiness –the Pope –the only one who could interpret the will of God.

To speak the will of God, Chapuys thought when he heard the Princess speak of it, after he informed her of the marriage proposal he would bring the King first of her cousin and Mary of Hungary to her son, it was very profound to see how her blue eyes sparkled when she spoke of her cousin –it caused certain jealousy in the old Ambassador's cold heart.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Chapuys blinked. "Excuse me?"

Mary laughed lightly. "I was asking His Excellency if you would do me the honor to grant me a walk, just like be- like old times" That was close, Mary felt. The last thing she wanted was to reminisce about old memories.

"Of course Your Grace" He answered, how could he say no to the great woman in front of him?

 

* * *

 

" _I do not understand the world, Father._  
By the millpond at the end of the garden  
There is a man who slouches listening  
To the wheel revolving in the stream, only  
There is no wheel there to revolve.  
He sits in the end of March, but he sits also  
In the end of the garden; his hands are in  
His pockets. It is not expectation  
On which he is intent, nor yesterday  
To which he listens. It is a wheel turning.  
When I speak, Father, it is the world  
That I must mention. He does not move  
His feet nor so much as raise his head  
For fear he should disturb the sound he hears  
Like a pain without a cry, where he listens.  
I do not think I am fond, Father,  
Of the way in which always before he listens  
He prepares himself by listening. It is  
Unequal, Father, like the reason  
For which the wheel turns, though there is no wheel.  
I speak of him, Father, because he is  
There with his hands in his pockets, in the end  
Of the garden listening to the turning  
Wheel that is not there, but it is the world,  
Father, that I do not understand."

**~On the subject of Poetry by W.S. Merwin**

 

* * *

 

They had been walking for quite a while now, sunshine was still there, the sun was not as hot though surprisingly it wasn't cold either, she felt no need to wear her especial leather black gloves yet somehow she felt she had to, something inside her screamed that the Ambassador's visit today was especial, like old time he was bringing good news, and giving her advise.

And it brought them good memories, as they talked about their old times together when they would be battling against the Boleyns or the Earl of Essex, her "former" enemy.

"I don't believe he is so former, you hear how he stalks my son and husband day and night for their favor" She said crossly, venom spitting from her voice.

Chapuys would not say that it was the other way around –her husband did not bother to hide it anymore- Philip of Bavaria cared more for his wife's enemies favor, to climb up the ladder, his charming smile, his handsome looks he resulted to be nothing more than another impoverished Royal opportunist.

His Princess would not like to hear this so he said nothing, he kept hearing her, waiting for her to stop about her so called "loving" husband, it hurt him, she had no idea, to hear her speak of that man in such a way.

Fiend –that was all Phillip of Bavaria had been when he had been presented by his naïve cousin, Anne of Cleves, to the Princess –liar and fiend. He had pretended to be the loving man, honorable, loyal and humble like her mother's motto, meanwhile making plans to take hold of her money, to push himself closer to the throne. It was disgusting yet not strange for a man to use his child to acquire the King's favor.

It was worse for the Princess who had to suffer, seeing herself being displaced now by her son.

The only thing he could do was the same as always, bring her unconditional support, yet tell her the truth and say I told you so without having to be so blunt like he used to before she married the Duke..

She still remembered when he looked at her after IT happened, all those things she thought he would say –sorry, apologize, many things more, but he left her that day to her own luck, it didn't matter that it had been cold and the moon was not to be seen to guide her path back to Hunsdson. She could take back what he did, but would he even care? Never disappear, she thought, that cloud of doubt of whether or not that kiss meant something, whether or not he stayed with her all night or was it all a dream –would stay on her mind.

She wanted answered, but seeing the look on his face; she doubted she would get them anytime soon, so why bother really?

"Your Grace knows that the Emperor would do what it takes to see England return back to the faith"

Mary shook her head, now who was being naïve? "And if the Emperor cares so much about my Country's faith why no approve of the Hapsburg proposal for five marriages, you know it has nearly been four years since that" She then added –"He could have at least seen the benefits even coming from his own enemies, after all I would be marrying a Catholic"

"Yes and his enemies would have influence over you to turn against him" He shot back.

"Funny isn't it?" She said rolling over the roughness in his voice.

He looked up to where the Princess was looking, what was there so special? Only trees, branches, leaves and more leaves, nothing beautiful there, not compared to the beauty of his birthplace in Savoy. England was a rat hole compared to it, even Flanders and Antwerp could never oust the marvelous rivers, the colors, smells and lush green forest found in no other than Savoy.

"What is?"

"You and me we were almost a year ago here and …"

He sighed. "Princess please don't go there"

She narrowed her eyes, had he just called her –"You called me Princess" It was not a question, it was a statement and he knew.

"And what if I did?"

Chapuys did not say whether he wanted her to answer him or not, in all honesty with himself he did not. He preferred if this conversation had never taken place. Did she have to be this indirectly inconsiderate with his feelings?  
Had she wanted to see him naked before everyone, to see him like any other man, vulnerable and reveal him to be hollow inside?

To Chapuys' relief, Mary dropped the subject as she remembered a month ago. Had it been so little since her _dream_? Part of Mary convinced itself that it had all been a dream, just a pleasant dream, but the other half of her, her heart mostly did not want to accept that reality. How could it be a dream –when she had felt his embrace the next day, seen the sheets next to her thrown aside as somebody had been there –sleeping _besides_ her.

Today, however, she would know once and for all if it had been a dream or not, and she would bring to topic once more after she would get an answer from him, of their kiss, what were his true feelings –had he kissed her because it was all done in the heat of the moment, or was it done out of sincere feeling? She **had** to know, and it couldn't wait any longer, she had to know now.

"Did you sleep with me?" It was blunt, rash, quick and he was taken aback, stopped dead in his tracks, and felt his knees buckle. He grabbed the cane harder, looking towards her once more his eyes going wide he nearly screamed at her –"What?"

"Don't play with me Excellency -I know you know what I am talking about. You know right? You were there, you waited until I fell asleep, you waited … it has always been you –"

He frowned, the look on his face begging her to stop, but she ignored it.

"This cloud will always hover over me, I could leave it all today, leave all the memories, but is it not you who told me that when in doubt I should clear my mind, just like yourself, just like a good cynic I must always approach friends, allies and enemies alike bluntly, like a good leader does" She said becoming more determined as she finally noticed his frown. "I want to know the truth"

He smirked, now who was the naïve one in this twisted fairy tale beauty?

"What is so funny?" She asked displeased.

"Nothing, only that you are very naïve milady" Not Your Grace, not Princess, but milady –"You believe a difference could be made, look around you, do you believe a Princess can make a difference –anymore than I can to better your position in Court? I told you that the Duke's marriage would not make it better, but you did it not listen! You could –"

She cut him off rashly, as like a dog she barked at him, shouting –"Now who is being naïve when the marriage of Dom Luis de Portugal was failed, half of the world knows he married some insignificant woman of the low nobility just like yourself, for all I care your marriage proposals would just have made England a colony from Spain, is it not what you wanted, why you were sent here, because and I quote you are not the Emperor's subject and he does not want anymore to do of this?"

"That is unfair milady –and I did that to save you" Eustace shouted.

Eustace didn't know what story he should tell to Mary to quiet her down, but clearly -whatever he said would not calm her down, she was already on the edge of exploding.

Her usually calm gray eyes that many of the Court admired looked anxious and then they became as angry as his, and she tucked her hair behind her ears twice for each time he had finished speaking -a nervous tell, as Susan called it. _Brilliant player, shrewd. Lousy with her "special" guests._

"Good thing it did, since I became the King's subject, his puppet, dependent on Cromwell on enemies who would soon see me dead and my son their next puppet and yet ..." she paused tucking a wisp of hair behind her ears once again.

"And yet?"

She sighed. "And yet you always spoke out of turn to my father, you dared to stand before all his puppets and not whisper but raise your voice to him, contradicting his will, that England was fated to have a Queen instead of a King, and this was before Jane Seymour had fallen pregnant with Edward. Why contradict yourself? Why push me to limit?"

She waited for an answer. It never came.

Exasperated, she huffed and turned her back on him walking the opposite direction back to Hunsdson, but as she heard him call her by her first name, something that it was unprecedented, a commoner addressing like that –she was higher than he'd ever hoped to reach, and he –he was so beneath her –she thought turning to see him once more walking to her direction.

He felt like a cripple before, not because of his gout or his poor health, but because of his coward behavior not to see the jewel he had in front of him.

"Did you sleep next to me?" Only an inch apart she then pleaded -"Please" She was becoming hungrier for the truth as his scent began to cloud her vision

 _Where is she going with this?_ What could he possibly say to calm her down? He would just confuse her more if he told her the truth, he had enough problem, she had problems too of her own, they were all very preoccupied with their personal affairs to be worry over who slept with whom and add salt to old wounds.

Just leave the past, he whispered to the Princess, but the Princess could not read minds, anymore than he could figure now what was going through her head.

"I need to know" she said after moments of silence.

When she finished her sentence, he did not respond immediately, but out of pure complacence he let her be lost in his blue eyes, a glint in her dark gray pools would have been impossible to resist, especially when they were so close now and her face was now leaning closer to his, he could now smell, and feel her as she brushed her lips into his.

 _What in the world?_ A muted glow was glinting off her eyes, as they were opened the entire time that their lips were brushing against one another. She hurried in before she could repent, to introduce the rest of her mouth in his. With his tongue now inside her it became impossible for them to let go. The light emanating from the sun became more pronounced as noon came, and all the birds that were in the trees flew away making space for the sun to shin on the two pair of star crossed lovers.

He was there. Mary knew now. He was there, otherwise why would his knees buckle, why would he have stopped me and discussed with me when he could have easily made up some excuse, he had done many times before, why so hesitant with me?

Her thoughts were pushed from her mind, as Eustace's hand came to rest on her neck, the other going to her back pulling her closer to him.

To hell with the Queen, the King or her husband and all of England, there was only here and now, for once he rejoiced in letting himself get lost in their passion.

* * *

**Hever Castle**

**Lord Philip the Younger Household:**

She didn't know how long it had passed but Kitty enjoyed every moment she spent with her step grandson, though there were occasions where she felt nostalgia at seeing father and son so closer, she felt she was usurping his mother's place but the back of her voice, that fiendish roguish voice would always convince her that it was not she who should feel guilty –if her mother wanted, she could be here.

It was very irresponsible for her mother, if they asked her, to deny her child and to be jealous –one would think a Princess of England would have better behavior? Where was the so called, regal, jovial and good obedient daughter that Henry always preached about the Duchess of Bavaria? Where was she when her child needed her?

Kitty could not be expected to be the boy's mother every day of the week. He had two parents, only one so far she thought with disdain as she began to rock the little boy back to sleep before she put him back in his crib, his mother had a natural instinct to care for this little angel. Edward and Elizabeth were not her children, biologically, but in ever sense of the word she had treated them as such, and in Elizabeth she had found not only a cousin, but also a friend and a sister something she had thanked the Lord for everyday, for what had started as duty at first, had become into something more –a blessing.

She had everything she wanted, riches, palaces, subjects to worship and praise her and above all a family that loved her. Well almost all, the Duchess still did not treat her with enough respect, and she told his to Henry often, but he did not listen! Why did he not listen? Why did he have to be so stubborn? It reminded her of the Duchess –of that spoiled Princess.

There, there, she thought as she laid the sleeping infant back in his crib. He would have been born with a silver spoon, yet poor child, so little when he was born, and so weak, he always needed his father, his mother and everyone around him otherwise the nurses would report he would cry nonstop with his cheeks turning red and sometimes purple, worrying even the Doctors.

It added more pressure to Kitty if this boy did not live past his infancy. She did not care what they said to her ingrate stepdaughter, but what they would say about Henry, they would all say that the Tudor line was cursed, and she would be forced to produce an heir! As if she was not already, she prayed day and night for the little Lord to become better, to grow into a strong, healthy boy, the heir and grandson that Henry could be proud of, but the little babe was no such thing, and as much love as she gave freely to Edward and Philip, she could not fool herself –they would die young, death was written in their faces.

The King hardly saw his son, and when he did it was only to praise him for being a boy, hardly a kiss or an embrace would be received by either party, the same story was repeated with his grandson, Lord Philip.

"Sleep tight" she said with an excited voice as the child smiled, even with his eyes closed, he seemed to be aware of Kitty's presence. If God granted a miracle, let the little Philip be his miracle, so he could preserve after Edward the Tudor line.

Katherine walked out of the nursery and to her guest room where her other ladies were, ready to play another round of the card game she had left pending when she decided to visit her step grandson. Playing with her ladies had been her favorite past time, especially because at Hever, her step-grandson's Household there was no spy or no usher of the King to summon her every time, she could be herself in this place, it soon became her favorite place after the Lady Elizabeth's Household.

"Any more tales you want to share before we resume our game?" She said with the same excitement as Joan Bulmer laughed discreetly after one of the other ladies finished her tale about the rogue she had spent several nights with.

"No Your Majesty, I think that is it" Said Andrea Wilks, one of the girls who had already told her story of her night with one of His Majesty's guards –his name she could not remember, but the night –she mentioned, had made her day.

"You naughty … naughty" Kitty said, her other ladies laughing with her discreetly, especially Joan Bulmer as she covered her mouth trying to stop the bark of laughter that was going to escape at any minute.

It finally did as Kitty said one crude joke about the Duchess, her favorite subject to make fun of when she felt bored or when she wanted to bring a little humor into her inner circle's atmosphere. "Mary Tudor Wittelsbach was said to growled like a mad dog when she heard the handsome Duke and her father His majesty gave me permission to visit my favorite especial little guy"

Joan could not stop, she had to sit down and take a deep breath, she almost took out all the oxygen from her lungs when she laughed like crazy at Kitty's comment, and she was not the only one –the others soon had joined in after Joan.

"You talk like he was YOUR especial little guy" Joan said mischievously as a playful grin formed around her Mistress' face.

"He is, his mother spends more time hating me and disrespecting me, I hear even Sir John Perrot now laughs openly about her even in the King's presence"

"Oh stop it Joan, Sir John has better things to worry that boy than to become involved in the sour Princess" All her ladies joined in greater laughter as Katherine finished cackling, it was the same laughter that characterized Kitty Howard from other ladies, including her predecessors. The others had behaved with such great and dignity that Katherine could ever hope she could achieve in half the time that she would be with His Majesty.

His Majesty was a man that could still have children, he had to otherwise he would be the laughter of all Christendom, the King being impotent was not good publicity and Kitty understand this better than anyone. Henry was a good giver, but he was also a good taker, everything he had given her he could take it away in blink of an eye if she failed to please him.

It was no secret Sir John Perrot was the King's bastard, they looked very much alike. One had to be a fool or blind not to notice the similarities between father and son. Sir John was also a protestant, this was kept secret, it was the sort of secret everyone knew but no one liked to talk about, much less his father who had admired and –amongst his other select bastards- he held him in such a high steam.

He and his other bastard brother, another of the King's product from his early affairs during the Queen's Great Matter, Sir Thomas Stukeley were all great supporters of Mary, and they had supported the King when he had brought the Reformation to England. They probably felt that England would have finally be delivered from obscurity and into the new teachings of Luther, all adepts of the new ways they had all supported Cranmer and regarded him as a prophet of sorts. Kitty did not know what to think of this? Wasn't God supposed to be interpreted only by Jesus and allowed everyone to be taught? Why was it then that the Archbishop still held some restrictions over how the gospels should be taught, and how people should heed God's teachings. It seemed like Cranmer was also misinterpreting the Gospels, but who was she to debate him, that was men business, her place was with her children, the household, the parties, the pretty dresses and of course making sure everyone had a great time in His Majesty and Her Court.

"I don't blame the handsome Duke of Bavaria for being away from their state, all she does is woof, woof to him and meow to you" Kitty turned to Joan giving a wide smile to her best lady in waiting, she had turned out to be a good jester that Joan, she always lightened the mood of her ladies.

"Oh leave her be" one of the less talkative ladies in waiting said. "she is just jealousy because Her Majesty has everything, if she wants to be as good as us, all she needed was to show you kindness, now she can't even be nice to her boy, what a freak!" She exclaimed

Kitty grabbed a cup of tea that had been prepared just as she had ordered, drinking the tea carefully not to burn her tongue -she said "Leave it, Sir John does not care about her, and Sir Thomas Stukeley even said behind her back how irresponsible she was not to tell the father of her child on time that she was going early in labor! Nobody cares about the Duchess, she has served her purpose, the only good that nun has done!"

So she focused all her attention back to the game of cards after they had all stopped making fun of Mary, it got to the point where the subject of all their taunts got boring.

 

* * *

 

**(Mary POV)**

I did not know who started what first, but God I thought, strange request from his lips when they traveled back to my neck and into my chest as his force in which he kissed me made me fall on my back on the ground. Thank God it was covered by the leaves that had since not been picked since fall to make my fall less painful. He fell on top of me, and time had stopped all of a sudden when I looked up. I could no longer hear the birds or the animals nearby the forest, the wind had stopped, and I could not feel either coldness or warmness coming from the sun's rays.

His thin lips had stopped roaming when they reached my neck on the same spot where he had sunk his teeth last time.

What in the world? I could sense him thinking, unexpected this was as he leaned in closer, his cane having dropped seconds before he'd caused my fall and laid on top of me. It was too late now to back away.

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

Once my lips left her neck to look at her two great dark gray ocean pools, I felt I could no longer be certain if this could be avoided. I had crossed the line, we had crossed the line, and it was too late now to get away from this.

No more time left, this was what I had been trying to avoid all my life, but the wings of an angel, her arms being wrapped around me and her melodic voice that escaped from her giggles, made me convinced that I could not step back from my commitment, come what may I had sworn her mother to protect her -and no matter what happens after this moment, I would still do until her heart stops beating.

* * *

The Ambassador did not need to hear the song of birds or the leaves falling from the tress on top of them, hearing the song deep in her smile, her exhales her moans, it was harmonious, the greatest melody. No other woman had done this to him, there had been others, few though before and after his Holy Orders, but those -he told himself now as he kept hearing the song in her escaped giggles that he'd caused after he kissed her neck- had been fleeting moments. This was the woman he realized he could never forget. He became convinced, now as her arms went around him, that he was in the wings of an angel.

Content that everything was running smoothly here, she brought a hand to his cheek.

He meant to turn away, but he felt more trapped as she leaned forward, and feeling he could not resist being away from her any longer –let the King come, or his spies or his son in law's he did not care for him or his lady's husband anymore, she was his now and nothing would stop him from enjoying this moment.

* * *

**(Mary POV)**

The pious and strict Catholic Princess –I snort inwardly –what have you done Mary Tudor? Look at yourself, kissing a mere Ambassador, a commoner?

I don't listen to that voice anymore, I let myself be taken by the voice in my chest, the voice that is now being silenced once more by him as his hand lays on my breast, his lips now on mine. Please stop, my mind begs, please stop, no I can't –I respond, I don't think I want to as he pushed his tongue in mine, a battle of the tongues ensues and I cannot help but moan as he withdraws momentarily to trace his lips all the way to my neck, the part that has not yet been kissed and felt the touch of his teeth, the part he has not tasted yet.

His hand makes me moan harder as it lands on my shoulder, my left shoulder where unexpectedly he starts to loosen my sleeve, moving all the way to my back I can feel his hand now –once he untied the back of my dress- inside my gown, reaching now to take my corset. It is not tight so he takes it off without much effort.

I briefly see the poor state of his leg, he was right when it said that the gout was consuming him, how could I have been so blind not to see it before? I was causing him greater pain by risking his life and health for me than this.

There is so much on us still, and I feel nervous, not because I have not experienced this before, I have with Philip but it was so different with Philip I tell my mind. With Philip it was duty, it was love too but it was done on a bed and in the comfort of our sleeping clothes, not in the middle of the forest and on top of dirty leaves.

 _Take me in your arms and never let me go,_ I pleaded letting my hands touch his soft hair, I had to know the curiosity in me, if his hair was as soft as I had dreams of.

 

* * *

 

Both of them reacted with their lips once more on each other as their hands traveled to different parts of their clothing loosening them.

He pulled her closer as she lifted her off the ground, only the first half as he sat up.

This could be a shipwreck, if they went down, but both lovers no longer cared, they could sailed forever, and if they sank or swam, did it really matter when they were about to be joined body and soul?

She had taken his chemise, and he had taken her gown, leaving only her gown.

He felt the wind return, he suddenly felt cold, he wanted his breeches to return, this felt wrong, very wrong, they were not supposed to be in here, no, this was terribly wrong –they should not …

His mind was pacified by her lips now on his neck, the sharpness of her teeth making him enter a state of catharsis, he brought her closer to his her perfect brown-red hair falling on the side of where she had bitten him.

"Eustace" she said moaning later in ecstasy as he thought 'oh Milady' and spread her legs out to him (forgetting the pain in his leg, he forced his legs first before he pushed hers apart) preparing now for the inevitable, the culminating part that would seal their fates.

She gasped as she felt him rushing, forcing her hips apart, then her legs and then … "Ah" she flinched in pain, but that pain soon turned into heavy moaning as her hands that had clawed themselves on his back soon eased their grip as the thrusts became less painful but then he quickened the pace and it did not help that she brought herself closer to him just adding more to their arousal.

Eustace could not stop himself, when he had felt her lips on his, it was like having that experience of tasting something purely sweet once more, but now it was different since it made him feel like he was in Heaven and this sensation he did not want to let it go. Mary experiencing now the same did not want to let go either, and as he prepared to release himself inside of her, all reason gone from her mind she acted on pure desire.

Their sex had juxtaposed into love making, as the sun now heavier on their heads made them sweat, the seed now deep within her made them feel complete, now they were inseparable, their souls had become one.

Eustace fell to exhaustion as last as his lady's moans died. She had fallen asleep after he had pulled from her. She had felt like a part of her had been taken when he did, and not wanting to see her disappointment she fell asleep laying her head against the dirty leaves. He could not sleep, reason mildly returning he looked around and spotted his black cane just next to hers behind that tree. How it had gotten there, had the thrown it when they had fallen on each other? There was no way to know, but they had to go back, otherwise many of the servants, if they did not already would be very suspicious of their long trek.

But Eustace seeing the peaceful look on her face could not bring himself to wake her up, he laid his head next to her neck, grabbing the gown he used it as a cover to protect them from the cold. Sleep soon came to and he found himself loosing consciousness.


	21. Crossroads

" _I hear a voice say "Don't be so blind"_  
It's telling me all these things  
That you would probably hide  
Am I your one and only desire?  
Am I the reason you breathe  
Or am I the reason you cry?

 

_Always, always, always_  
Always, always, always  
I just can't live without you  
I love you, I hate you  
I can't get around you  
I breathe you, I taste you  
I can't live without you

_I just can't take anymore_  
This life of solitude  
I guess that I'm out the door  
And now I'm done with you

_I feel like you don't want me around_  
I guess I'll pack all my things  
I guess I'll see you around  
It's all been bottled up until now  
As I walk out your door  
All I can hear is the sound of

_Always, always, always_  
Always, always, always  
I just can't live without you  
I love you, I hate you  
I can't get around you  
I breathe you, I taste you  
I can't live without you

_I just can't take anymore_  
This life of solitude  
I guess that I'm out the door  
And now I'm done with you  
I love you, I hate you  
I can't live without you

_I left my head around your heart_  
Why would you tear my world apart?  
Always, always, always, always

_I see the blood all over your hands_  
Does it make you feel more like a man?  
Was it all just a part of your plan?  
The pistol's shaking in my hands  
And all I hear is the sound

_I love you, I hate you_  
I can't live without you  
I breathe you, I taste you  
I can't live without you

_I just can't take anymore_  
This life of solitude  
I guess that I'm out the door  
And now I'm done with you

_I love you, I hate you_  
I can't live without you  
I love you, I hate you  
I can't live without you

_I just can't take anymore_  
This life of solitude  
I pick myself off the floor  
And now I'm done with you  
Always, always, always"

**~Always by Saliva**

She felt his last thrust inside her. When he gave up he let her go, his legs spreading her apart before had not help ease her nervousness, when he began to move deep inside her she could feel herself exploding, it was different to lie besides someone else, besides him. They could not explain what was going on with them, but whatever it was it had taken them by storm, clouded their senses and for the first time since her son's birth Mary felt at peace after she fell back, her head against the cold ground, from exhaustion.

"Eustace" she said while they were sleeping, he would not hear her, and how could he when the wind blew harder against them, leaving his bare back open for any of the wind's attacks.

"Mary" he said, his eyes closing at the same time as hers. He had vowed not to let her sleep, to wake her up in case any of the servants would go searching for them, they had to avoid at all costs unwanted attention, but the way she spoke his name, the way her hands moved to his face bringing him closer to rest his head on his chest made him forget all his worries and have a dreamless sleep with his head lying on top of her bare chest.

Good and evil, life and death, two forces battling against each other for control, this was what this war was about, control, never ending control over love, hate and over Mary's heart and soul.

She had given herself to Philip on their wedding night, she had given him his heart, she had given every right to claim her as his, but the night when they had shared their bed for a second time control had disappeared, the keys to her heart no longer belonged to him, they had been handed over to the Ambassador who on this night had not only taken her heart as his possession but her soul as well, he had imprinted himself, given himself completely in body and soul to her. He had copied himself to her when he entered her many times over, whispering her name, she had been so deaf, trapped by the new feeling and sensation she felt when he thrust

* * *

**(Mary POV)**

Good sensation filled my body -we had remained in the forest for the longest time. We had, at least I did at first opened my eyes, I was breathing hard, his head was on top of my chest, I could feel the hairs in his scalp –aided by the wind- moving in my skin .

I did not know how much time it had passed before he had diverted his gaze to me. He seemed very distracted, he had looked the entire time at his cane which had been lying on the floor next to me, next to it was my gown with the engraved German words of "Angel of Wales" around the enameling of Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt, looking at me, her eyes deep emerald like Philip looking at me with contempt. I looked away and met more gracious eyes, bluest now as I saw a glint appear on them -however as soon as it came, it disappeared.

"Princes" he said to me, lifting his head up he struggled to find the right words to say next, but no sound came.

"E-" I did not get to finish my sentence.

I could feel the heat of his body leave mine as he slowly moved away from me.

There was desperation written all over his face … and then there was disappointment when he went to his clothes, the pain in his leg returning made him flinch, I got back up to help him but he pushed me away.

"Eust-" He didn't let me finish as he began to put his pant, I tried to help him, but he would not let me, he shoved me as he began to walk past me ignoring me.

Anger resurged in me, why was he doing this? Why?

"Eustace"

I finally made him turn.

"Eustace … what is wrong?"

What happened next was not the reaction I had expected. I would not be shocked if I heard him yelling at me, calling me a temptress, a whore or worse his concubine –it would be expected even accepted for I am not stupid, I am very well aware that we have sinned before God and that I am now a traitor to Philip and to my son for lying with this man, a man so below me yet my heart bares no reproach and I find my mind at shocking ease with all that has happened.

His Excellency, no longer Eustace, looks at me, bowing his head after he has finished buttoning up his doublet, mocking at me.

"We!" He shouts at me turning completely angry, he goes to where his cane and he grips it tighter, a sign he is nervous. "That is what happened!"

"I don-"

"Of course you cannot Princess … we changed the world, we changed destiny and you want to pretend that nothing is wrong? For the love of Christ Madame please be thoughtful, think what this could mean for us! For you" he points a guilty finger at me.

I don't like it. What have I done to deserve this? I do not deserve this, I should remind him that I am not the only one to blame for our sinful consummation, he was the second party involved in this after all.

"And screaming my name, moaning after you bit my neck, tore my clothes apart" I make sure nothing is missing, I want him to feel as despaired as guilty as he has made me feel and as hurt! "You said we changed the world? How about you? You changed the world when you refused to fight for me, for my right to marry a true Royal Prince, a Catholic Prince … if there is anybody to blame here is you!" It is my turn now to point the guilty finger at him.

My heart clenches, I can feel it stop, his laughter his arrogant stare at me.

"My God Princess" he said after his laughter dies down replaced by pure anger directed at me, "what would the others think if they saw you like this?"

"Is that all you care about? My reputation, your reputation I should say! Maybe that is why you worked so hard to make me your Master's best friend"

He throws a heavy insult in French at me as he begins to make his way toward where my clothes lay, throwing them at me. "I might be many things Princess, but one thing I am not is an opportunist, not for you"

I shake my head I know he is lying –I can see it in his eyes, there is many secrets there. As I start to dress, I do not have to worry about him seeing me for I can feel his gaze is diverted elsewhere.

I finish, it was quick, I sniff as he turns to me, his eyes remain the same with anger and hatred he continues his conversation –"You are not a little girl Madame, all that I have done for you, all that we have done for England it can be gone if somebody were to see you like this …if the Queen were to arrive at any moment!"

I scoff at that interrupting Chapuys "The Queen is very busy watching over my son to care what I do"

" **If** she were to come here Princess and see you –you would be on the mouth of every Courtier, your enemies would crush you"

"I don't care what those Heretics say anymore!"

"Yes you will when they begin to compare you to her, even worse than her I can hear them already –no worse than her stepmother going to the bed of older men so below her, I begin to wonder if that is the real reason why you hate her because deep down she reminds you of what you were once, innocent and careless but hollow outside!"

That is the final straw!

"You think I don't know that? I have been on the verge of tears ever since you left, ever since you left my bed, your kiss before that I dreamt of it, confused if it was all a dream. I wish I could toss my feelings and take my heart from my body just like in a fairy tale … but I know now that you were right, that I am not meant for happiness, even you are saying it –comparing me with Kitty Howard … How dare you? How dare you compare me to that woman? To that whore?"

He seemed to regret his words now as his eyes softened and he moved closer to me but I did not want him with me anymore.

"Princess!" I heard him screaming my name later "Mary!" several times but I did not turn back, I kept running and running to my Household the destiny where I realized -after I entered my home and ordered the maids when I reached upstairs to my bedroom door, to lock my bedchamber for me and let no one enter unless it was with my permission- that happiness was always going to be out of my reach, and that I was fool for thinking Eustace was my way out of this twisted reality.

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

"Princess!" Her words had touched me deeply and I began to make my way toward her but she just shoved me, in the same way I had shoved her earlier, and she continued to ignore me as I began to call her by her first name "Mary, Mary!"

I tried to reach her, but with the poor state of my leg I could not reach the castle on time, and when I was greeted by an angry Susan (that woman –I knew by her sharp mind she had become aware what had happened after she had seen her mistress all dirty, and with the sweat still trickling down her forehead) who told me that the Princess was not be disturb by anyone, including her.

I tried to talk more to Susan but she would not listen, she was very angry with me, she blamed me but seeing the desperation in my eyes she allowed me to sit on the couch and wait for the Princess, though she mentioned "I don't think she will come for the rest of the day Excellency" with a sharp tone glaring at me in contempt.

I felt so weak that I could not return the glare back, this was my fault I knew, but I had to make her understand, how could she be so calm after what we had done, what I had done?

Nothing would ever be the same, once the Princess came out though –I would wait to her even if I have to stay all night for her once more- I would talk to her, and I would not apologize as that is not something appropriate for my behavior or hers, but I would explain the situation better, how we should forget everything, forget that all we shared was real, forget that we are friends, just think of ourselves business partners –for wasn't that what our first intention meant for us to consider ourselves? Nothing more than business partners, allies but never friends –and certainly now that she was a wife and mother –or worse to consider the possibility that they could have become something more.

* * *

Eustace did not believe in what ifs, they were for the dreamers the men who wanted to live in regret, and Eustace was not one to regret his decisions, he had done -he often told himself- what he had to survive, simple as that. Life, the world around him had been cruel and he had to as cruel as his enemies to survive, he had to see everyone for what they were, ugly and hollow inside just like him, it was an universal truth that the Princess was still too naive and too in love with the idea of hope and happiness to realize yet.

But he would make her understand, for both their sakes, for there was no telling what would happen to them if the affair was discovered, what it could mean for him and worse what it could mean for her, a woman who had more at stake now that she had risen higher than other ladies at the Court for the boy she had bared to her husband and to her father. And the higher they rise -another universal- truth he more they have too loose and the harder she could fall -all because of the illusion she had created that what they had shared today was real, that he loved her and that she loved him!

How could any woman love me though? Eustace thought, how could any woman love a man as crippled and disgusting as him. He was old to be her father, or even her grandfather for God's sake! How different he was from the King of England who prayed after silly young girls like Katherine Howard and made them mistresses or in her case his wife? How different was he now from all the other vulture of the English that prayed after innocent and naive maidens like his Princess.

Snap out of it Eustace -stop it, he told his mind, he did not want to argue with himself, now was not the time. How could his mind even suggest, even think of him to consider what he felt for her? What did he feel for her? Lust, jealousy, green envy at being in the bed of another man? A bed he would never share, a bed he would never be part of -was that the reason for why he had felt desperate, attracted to jump into her open arms and make love to her?

If that was the case, he had picked the wrong time to fall for her charm, and he had definitely picked the wrong woman to fall for!

During the last hours as the moon was hidden by the black clouds, he felt his vision leave him. He had been asleep for a long time when he had laid with her, yet, without the moonlight or a body to bring him comfort (her body -his mind shouted -Eustace immediately told it to drop the subject) he found himself surrounded by loneliness, darkness soon invaded him as he fell into a deep sleep, unaware that two pair of dark grey orbs were looking in deep admiration.

 


	22. Pillar of Lies

" _If you can only see the way she loves me  
then maybe you'd understand  
Why I feel this way about our love_ __  
and what I must do.  
If you can only see how blue her eyes ca be when she says:  
when she says she loves me

 _Well you've got your reasons_  
and you've got your lies  
and you've got your manipulations  
they cut me down to size  
Saying you love me  
but you don't give your love  
you don't!  


 _If you can only see the way she loves me_  
then maybe you'd understand  
I feel this way about our love  
If you can only see how blue her eyes can be when she says:  
when she says she loves me

 _Seems the road less traveled_  
Shows me happiness unraveled  
And you got to take a little dirt  
To keep what you love  
That's what you gotta do  
Saying you love but you don't  
You give your love but you don't  
You are stretching your arms to something that is not there.

 _If you can only see the way she says she loves me_  
Then maybe you'd understand  
Why I feel this way about our love  
And what I must do  
If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says:  
when she says she loves me  


_Saying you love but you don't_   
_You give your love but you won't_   
_Sayin' you love where you stand_   
_Give your heart but you won't_

_If you could only see the way she loves me_   
_Then maybe you would understand_   
_Why I feel this way about our love_   
_And what I must do_   
_If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says_   
_When she says she loves me"_

**~Tonic (Artist), When she says she loves  
**

Mary had ordered everyone not to bother her, Susan kept knocking several times telling her, more like ordering her if they ask her, to open up and go downstairs to greet Eustace Chapuys.

"Eustace Chapuys?" She cackled manically, "What did he want?" What could he possible want after he had shouted concubine, and many other insults that he later implied that she was just as worse as her father's whore!

Mare, he could hear her whisper in her ear, mare. She was not a mare and much less a whore!

She was a Princess born and raised, she did not deserve his cruel words. Eustace, she thought, had completed her, had made her feel her full and she for a moment thought that she had made him open himself to another human being, she had been so sure that she had finally had his most prized possession, his loyalty in her hands. She had given all her body and soul to him, in a union that should have never been consummated -he had argued- she had given herself entirely to him, in more than just body and soul, she had made a promise when she slept him on the dirty, mud, cold floor where the leaves had covered and hid their bodies from the shame they would feel later. The wind had been howling for it must have known, she was sure that God's eyes or any others would not approve, so while they lay at the wind's mercy it sent the leaves to cover them, and the sun had shined for them, on top of his head forming the illusion that he had a halo floating above him. He had looked so majestically handsome when he had lain on top of her.

She thought him to be an angel descended from heaven to watch over her. He had always been there for her, when she was in physical pain, sick or struck with heavy headaches caused by Cromwell's or his father's marriages he had been there to keep her company, and when he had not been there, he had wrote to her, he had defended her position -she had been so cruel -she knew this now, but she wanted to make it up to him today to tell him that it was not his fault, that there was nothing they should regret, but he had just ran away, shove her away and when he kept ignoring her he had broken his silence with the crudest and meanest words to her! Comparing her to Kitty -really? Who did he think he was to do that?

* * *

"Tell him to go away" She shouted to Susan, Susan had no choice but to obey her Mistress. It was no use trying to make Mary see reason, she was still as stubborn as always, she feared and one day that stubbornness of hers would be the end and ruin of her.

Susan gave up eventually on trying to comprehend her Mistress' mind, she was only a servant, what possible difference could she make? Nothing, Mary was being childish denying her feelings with Eustace, playing cat and mouse with the Ambassador? Was she mad, did she not realize what this could mean for all of them if Philip of Bavaria were to find out? Or worse, Susan brought her hand to her forehead immediately chastising herself for such thoughts, doing the sign of the cross -she thought, if Henry VIII, His Majesty where to find out the truth of his daughter's little adventure?

It would be the end of Mary's fairy tale. She had risen as high as the Flemish tale of Cinderella, revered she could be as the mother of the future King, King Philip of England and Bavaria, how good that sounded, thought Susan, but would Mary be there to share the spoils of her son's rightful crown, or to have the crown of her father be placed on top of her? Would she fulfill her mother's dream or would she sink like the rest of his father's wives.

Was it really worthy for Mary to deny her destiny, or to deny her feelings, which in Susan's opinion was worse, for the man she had seen now she truly loved?

During the last year Mary had dedicated herself in body and soul to make her life with Philip a living fairy tale, but the dream had transformed itself, shifted from the happy reality that Mary wanted to believe into a living nightmare. Mary could not stop telling Susan how she felt about her son, how her father loved him more than she did, and how she felt no better than a mare, baring children -she said to Susan -is all I am good for now, I am seen as the vessel, a mother of a King, people will remember me as only that, for isn't that the fate of all women to become concubines to our sons and fathers Susan?" Mary had questioned her fate many times after she had borne her tiny little son. Susan tried to calm her best friend down, they were women, what difference could they make in the world? Mary had to get used to the life she got, if she did not then it would only make her marriage life harder.

 _"Marriage life Susan?"_ Mary had said, her grin turned wider as she began later to cackle madly after she finished complaining about her husband's recent friendship with her "mortal enemies" -Mary's exact words to refer to the Archbishop Cranmer of Canterbury and to the Earl of Essex, men she despised the most above all the other Heretics. Susan had nothing left to say to her Mistress except that this was her life now, and like all women she would get used to it or perish living in an impossible dream that would never be.

 _"Harsh words Susan, you would have comforted me before"_ Yes she would, thought Susan back to their conversation, nearly six months had passed since then. She would have comforted Mary like she did when she was teen, like when she had been an unmarried woman, before she had met Philip of Bavaria, a lonely Princess and bastard at the time struggling to get her father's approval. She had her own Household, her possessions in her name, she relatively little independence since Cromwell monitored all her activities, but at least the little independence she had when Hunsdon had been hers, she did not have to answer to anybody but herself. Her father had let her be, he had let her do in her Household what she pleased, he had let her pray, he had let her command her subjects as she saw fit, nobody in her Household had to question her orders for she was _maitress n' titre_ , sole Mistress of her life and of her destiny.

But along the road of her little independence came Philip of Bavaria, dashing rogue Prince of Germany he had wooed her Mistress and even Susan believing that he was the best choice for Mary. Susan had convinced herself that he was the best man for Mary, for he bore no hatred for other races and religions, and he let Mary pray, the first months into the marriage he let Mary do what she liked, command her servants as she pleased, come and go as she pleased, but that changed when she had fallen pregnant, and especially after his cousin, Henry's fourth wife had died, he had changed, their love turned to rivalry. Constantly they would argue, Mary would reproach him for changing her maids, for bringing new servants from Germany who would speak very little English and mostly German, his native tongue. The little independence she had finally disappeared with the birth of their son. She had called him her little blessing, God had heard her prayers more than he had heard her mothers. She had been so blessed, she had said to Susan, that there was no doubt in her mind that finally she would get her father's approval, that she would finally be the keeper of his heart as his mother once been.

Poor little Princess, she had fallen victim of an illusion, and now she had to suffer the consequences for that illusion.

* * *

Mary heard Susan's heavy footsteps fade away as she walked away from her chambers.

She had locked her door just as Mary ordered.

She would remember to thank Susan later for all that she had done, poor woman how was it she could live in the same roof under an impossible person like herself? How was it anybody can live with her? She was of stubborn character, of proud and impossible stock, she was a Tudor AND a Tratasmara what more was there to mention to prove that not only she was as innocent and naive, the opposite of her mother, but also stubborn, proud and very obstinate like her father? There was a lot of Tudor traits in her, her mother always complained and now the Tudor traits were beginning to manifest themselves, like her Aunt the hot blood young Princess Mary "Rose"(dubbed by the French and Englishmen who fell in love with her young Aunt) soft and delicate, her charm had made the rest of Europe fell in love with her, even Louis was said could not resist her charm, she presumed of her beauty, he said to have felt young and feverish whenever she was near him, the nights in bed she remembered as a child when she would hear her young Aunt tell her mother's ladies, whenever her mother was not present, she would make the old King scream to the top of his lungs begging for more. She was only a child then, but she had come to understood well (listening constantly to the gossip of her ladies and her young Aunt hidden behind the curtains at night) their interactions and peer bonding. She longed one day to be known for her beauty and be showered with gifts and praises as her Aunt.

Alas, every time Mary would wake up from her day dreaming she would find herself not a Princess but a subject once more, first of her father, then her husband and finally her son. Her son, she loved that boy more than life itself, but she dreaded to see him turning into what she hated the most, another cruel or insensitive Master that she would have to submit for the rest of her days. She doubted with this mentality she would ever enter heaven. Constantly she told herself, this world is only temporary heaven is forever.

But heaven can wait, her mind said with disdain. What use is heaven if you had to suffer at the hands of another Master who will see you only for what you can bear, sons?

Is that what she wanted? To be the subject of men -of heretics?

Is this what you want, to be a slave, to be as submissive as your mother, to be man's whores so they can do with you as they wish, to bare nothing but bastard Heretics that would only steal your spotlight, turn England into a Heretic Realm? Do you really think your son will blow years of repression that your father has caused on this land? Will he submit to you Mary, or, rather will you submit to him?

There was no time to answer.

Yes or no. Time was running out.

Now or never yes or no.

**Lead or follow?**

_What will it be? Will you continue to follow others, or will you lead?_

**Lead or follow ... lead or follow.**

**Lead or follow Mary?**

_Stop it!_

_Just stop it_. -She pleaded. **This** was the moment where Mary decided, she was tired of following, she was tired of leading, she was tired of listening to her father, and she was tired of obeying with not the reward of the love and approval she had desired from her father, like she had always made sure he never missed her attention that she gave to him freely. It was time she stopped the illusion, that she put an end to her day dreaming. Nobody was coming to rescue her, as nobody was coming to rescue the damsel in distress, Knights in shining armor did not exist to help maidens, they lived to serve God and Country. A woman was only a distraction to them, the only good thing they were taught they served men for was for entertainment and to continue the human race.

Alas, Mary stopped sobbing as she found this new truth enlightening.

She had been so involved in her tears, in her misery that she did not see the benefits of this concept of weakness in her sex. She could do many things, nobody would question her for she was only God's mistake, product of an incestuous union, she was weak and frail just like her weak son. Who were they, her enemies, to say she would be guilty of anything, when they had attested that she was weaker because of her sex?

She was free she realized, in her mental prison that she had been taught she was weak for being a woman, she was actually free, for she could take advantage of man's law to do as she pleased, to travel freely, to give excuses that it was her stupidity the reason why she had strayed away from the right path.

She stopped sobbing, she stopped crying. It was all over, she did not need to cry anymore, she had gotten out of Plato's cave, she had found the light in this new found revelation. Nobody could stop her, nobody WOULD stop her from leading her life the way she wanted.

Philip might have taken her son, her friendships away, but she had not taken her freedom, her freedom and her faith one thing alone she still kept them alive through her will and her defiance, however Mary was wise enough this time to realize that she would fare better if she gave a silent defiance than an open one.

During the last year she had been very foolish, and very ill with hatred refusing to see or meet with that little twerp who insisted she be called the Queen of England, Katherine Howard. She had written several times to her, requesting, no, _commanding_ her presence and her husband's at Court. She had always refused -giving one _good_ fair excuse, one after the other she had avoided in the first year Katherine Howard's presence but when Philip had been born she could no longer deny the Queen's command. She had to show respect, a child, male born especially changed everything, now she and her husband would be forever under her family's watch. It was no secret the Howards saw Mary as a threat, especially her uncle the Howard Patriarch, the second Duke of Norfolk whom Mary bore nothing more than resentment. The proudest boy in England -her son, the Earl of Surrey, Henry Howard had wanted to steal a smile from Mary, but Mary would not give him anything but cold glares. Philip told her to behave, he tried to teach her with softness when he would lay in bed next to her, **when** he would be in bed with her, that it was best for all of them that she showed the Queen the same kindness and sweetness she was known to show all her maids and poor guests at Hunsdson.

She would, she had told Philip, if Kitty was her friend, but so it happened Kitty was not her friend, never would be and she was cousin of the Concubine responsible for throwing England into the devil's hand, and ruining her mother and her life!  
How could that insolent child, nothing more than a stupid and very dumb child be worthy of any respect from her, a Princess of England?

Mary had been very foolish. Admit your mistakes and it is the first step toward becoming a better, and -she would add- more cunning person.

She had to show herself to be a more kinder and grateful person than Kitty, and if by that she had to show submission throw a few smiles here and there then by God with her pride swallowed and her hatred locked up inside, she would! For her future, and for what freedom she would be allowed while she still remain in Hunsdson away from the prying eyes of His Majesty, her father and her master, her husband.

Mary brought her hands to his face and began to rub her eyes. It was very dark, there were no candles lit in her room, and she heard no longer the chatter from all the other servants, English and non English in her Household. They were all probably asleep, this was her chance, her chance to see if he still cared, or if it was all just a fleeting moment of passion that she had shared.

Walking to the door, she stopped. What if he was not there by the time she got down? Eustace Chapuys never let any emotional attachments, if he truly had any, to defer him from carrying out his duty as Ambassador to the Holy Roman Empire, so Mary's hand started shaking as it fell on the door knob. Finding the courage at last, pulling all doubts from her mind, she opened the door and walked downstairs very careful not to make any sound or to wake anybody up, especially if it was him whom she figured the snores were coming from.

Mary reached downstairs at last after what seemed a long trek. There he was in her living room, on top of her blue long couch he had fallen asleep. If he opened his eyes now he would not be able to trace whose eyes it was that were spying on his sleeping form, she would be disappointed if that was the case, for she wanted him to know it was her whom was watching over him, like God watched over Moses when he promised he would guide him and his people to the Promise land.

Why she felt this way, was no longer the question in mind that bothered her, it was the way she looked at him. The way she relaxed when she saw him breathing softly while he slept.

He tossed however as his head tried to look somewhere for comfort.

Mary rushed to his aid quickly before he could turn more comfortable and thus waking up to see her.

Morning she realize, was going to come soon, the servants could see them, but finding her new freedom through silent rebellion she would find ways through her friends Susan, Jane and Sophie to stop them from gossiping and reporting back to Philip or worse to Cromwell, who would not wince to tell her father about her _nightly activity._

She opted, since the couch was big for them both, to sleep next to him giving him a light push sending him to lie on the rear end of the couch, his head becoming comfortable, he stopped moving as his body became perfectly still after she lifted his head burying the pillow under both their heads. Now there was nothing to stop them from saying they had not slept together.

* * *

Eustace woke up to a great softness lying underneath his head. He opened his eyes briefly. He became surprised as he saw her blue eyes staring at him, her smile he took notice, even when there were no candle to light her face, was directed at him.

It was only for a few seconds as her eyes closed again and she went into a profound sleep.

The sound of her heartbeat when his hand acting on its own went straight into her chest, the chest he had lain in for the first time when they had slept together in the forest, was as soft even when it was covered with all the heavy garments of her clothing. He felt her heart beat faster when he put his hand on top of her chest, just in between her breats.

She was lying very near the edge of the couch, he became afraid she could fall. Eustace against his better judgment brought him closer to her, she made no sound in protest. Both their heartbeats were beating faster than usual.

He had learned in the last few hours spent intimately with her, lying on the cold ground of her property's dark forests that he had more than sympathy to give to this woman, he admired, and he still, despite what they'd done, respected her. His attention was now diverted to her neck, where his hand slid its way up to reach her left side of it. There was the last bite marks, though less visible, he had to move her hair to cover them, he would not want any servant to take notice of them and report back to that insolent boy. He grinned giving a light chuckle at the thought of the man seeing those marks on her. Knowing how proud and arrogant he was, so sure of himself, he would show them off thinking it had been him. He decided then, that he would not worry about the Duke of Bavaria, he was only a pawn in her father and the Heretics' game to control his Princess, the real danger lay in Cromwell and the Archbishop finding about their relationship.

Poor Duke, he had not the slightest idea when he married this woman what he was getting into -for the Princess was not a woman to sell herself to the highest bidder so easily, she was not as cheap or easy as other Princesses in Christendom had been, she was knowing for her feisty behavior like all the woman from her mother's noble house, the Tratasmaras and the women from Castilla, they obeyed no one unless they could have something they could profit -like power.

He had patched up his quarrel with the Princess when he closed his eyes his left hand on her forehead and the other around her waist.

* * *

_"Passion often renders the most clever man a fool, and even sometimes renders the most foolish man clever. This is what Francois de La Rochefoucald said, a notable 17th century philosopher he knew the dangers of love, and he knew what love could do to a man whose heart we are under the impression it has been made out of stone. Love fools us all, it is the most dangerous feeling for it disguises itself as passion, as beauty, but when we take these two masks away from love we see love for what it truly is -not beauty and certainly not passion, it is a bringer of death, harvesting nothing but the seeds of deception and revealing it to be deception. Love is rarely found to be pure and free from seeding deception, rarely does it overcomes all its ugliness"_

_~"_ **Love Paradox" by Anynomous**

* * *

  **July 26th,**

**Hunsdson:  
**

Susan had retired all the ladies and servants the next day after Mary and Eustace Chapuys had woken from their slumber. Six month months ago, how quick, Mary, Susan and Jane thought, time went by, it seemed like yesterday she had lied next to him and woken up feeling the warmness of his hands placed on her waist and her forehead.

Eustace Chapuys had been surprised to see an ally in Susan Clarenciux, the same woman who had reluctantly let him after the fight he had put on, almost threatening her not to leave until she did so.

Susan did not regret what she did two days ago to keep all of this a secret.

And Mary had not been in a hurry to explain her servants what had happened, despite Susan's pleas that the entire Household would be talking if she didn't give one good explanation. Mary let Susan talk, her attempts to show her best friend that there was nothing they should worry about were often clumsy. They respected and admired her, Susan and Jane did (Sophie, thankfully Susan thought -who had never liked Sophie in the first place- had not been there at the time the Ambassador had come and gone from Hunsdson); they liked her beautiful gowns, they admired her courage to stand up against her enemies, her determination, they would praise her saying there was no other lady in Christendom as valiant and she would explain to them what it was that had made her act that way in the past. Her inability to see past the people's true hearts, that people were as Chapuys had said, black and hollow inside and that the only thing on their mind was power, not religion or morality but power.

"So are you going to give up?" Jane asked her innocent voice amusing Mary even more.

"No" She shook her head smiling at Jane as she urged them both, Jane and Susan to sit down in the sofa next to the fire place in the living room where they could be facing her.

"No, of course not" She went on to emphasize after she made sure they understood, especially Jane that things would change from now on. They would speak in Latin, knowing full well that Jane spoke Latin like the other English maids. Whenever Sophie was with them, they would speak in French, after all sly as the German servants were they hardly spoke Latin and they understood very little French.

Susan and Jane nodded in agreement.

"Good" Mary said and starting this rule from today she began to speak -hearing the footsteps of Philip's German servants nearby- in Latin -"Whenever I receive letters from His Excellency, or else from his English butler Fleming, I want you both to report all of their letters and the verbal messages directly to me, not to each other in case there is only one of you who receives the message first."

Her maids nodded.

She smiled, then she said: "His Excellency has a property near Hunsdson, is not a long travel from Hunsdson, but is hidden somewhat deep in the woods so it can be spotted."

Jane nearly jumped from her seat, she was very young and still naive yet Mary and Susan had great fondness for her, for she reminded them of their younger years, especially Mary when everything had been carefree. Clapping both hands together and giving letting a light chuckle escape from her lips she exclaimed: "So you are going to meet in secret, how big is the place?"

Susan rolled her eyes, and Mary grinned at Jane, telling the girl not to get too hyper, the servants would notice they were up to something.

Jane shrunk back, slightly disappointed she could not show her excitement because of those German Heretics. Oh -she thought -they (Germans) have to ruin everything.

"Furthermore," she went on "I want to make it clear, we only agreed on this because as you know he is not welcomed in this Residence. Philip has not let him, and his cottage is the only way we can meet, if there is something important. Greenwich, Whitehall, the Embassy hardly are good private places anymore to receive his letters, I have suspected for some time that someone might be opening our letters"

"Not any of us you know what" Jane said becoming nervous.

Mary's grin did not fade away. "Of course not Jane, I know better. I am only saying this so we can be alert, even the Emperor has warn me to look better at my subjects or at least those that pretend to be me in my service, Mary of Hungary's last letter was very clear on that too. She will not transmit any messages unless they are spoken through His Excellency's lips"

Susan's voice broke Mary's grin as she asked seriously to Mary, "How often will you meet? Mary in your condition you know, and even Philip he can ... when the Ambassador sees you, everyone knows by now, he will be the only one who knows the truth behind your condition. You can't lie Mary."

Mary closed her eyes momentarily imagining his face when he saw her after months of being separated from each other. He had become an important part of her life, she had wanted to forgive him, to let go of the moments they had shared but a month after he had left Hunsdson she had found herself leading Philip into her bed, she had never been more ashamed and so relieved for leading him into her deception. It had been months since they had lain together, she had wanted to give him the news herself the week after she and Philip had lain together that she had been with child again.

Nobody had contemplated it, joy and approval at the young couple soon washed over them when it was announced by her father who had raised his cup in a toast to honor once again the fruitful union of the Duke and the Duchess.

 _"To the Duke and the Duchess"_ The members at Greenwich whispered. Edward had been moved by then to Hanworth, people said his health was not the greatest, and they did not need an expert like Dr. de la Sa or Dr. Linacre to tell them. Everyone knew about now of her brother's poor health, and everyone was scared for they feared that if the boy died too son that he would be nothing more than the Earl of Hertford, his uncle and namesake's puppet. Henry, her father would never leave Edward as Lord Protector, Mary told herself -however the consequences of his father's actions, breaking with Rome, and England's constant struggle to become a stable nation, had left her open to attack. If her father had any good sense he would see that an alliance would be needed to keep their Country safe.

But that was not the only reason why her father was worried, now besides his son and his grandson who was still little in size and very frail, he had no choice but to direct his prayers at Mary and his wife, Katherine. If that silly thing provided him with just one male, it would be the end of her, she would have no chance to be included in the succession, her father -as Eustace had said to her before -would waste no time making Kitty an anointed Queen so there would be no question of his Prince's validity to be included in the line of succession.

This would be a heavy blow to Mary, rumors were going around that the whore was pregnant, and if it was she could kiss her chances of every becoming Queen or seeing her son in the line of succession goodbye.

She directed her gaze at Susan, after she had stared at the window next to them off into space, becoming distracted with her thoughts.

Susan worried for her, and she thanked the woman inwardly in her heart for doing so, but this was not the time to feel sorry for herself or for Susan for trying to make her see her mistakes, the potential risk she was running of seeing His Excellency again.

She was by no means a troll, walking mindlessly into a trap. She knew what she was doing, Chapuys had it all planned out as did she.

"There is little to worry Susan, I will leave tomorrow, and I assure you His Excellency will not know the ..." her eyes fell on her swollen stomach. "child is his" She swallowed. She was committing a big sin by making this child pass off as Philip's, especially -she dreaded- if this was a boy, her father would be pleased, especially if he was born healthy, he would be raised as high as Philip, and maybe even higher if he proved to be the spitting image of the healthy son her father always yearned for.

She prayed it was not so.

"He will know" Susan said sharply becoming deadly serious as she her friend's hand was placed on top of her swollen stomach.

They were already at risk trying to pass of this pregnancy as miraculous, people were asking how was it that her stomach was so big in just _five months_ of pregnancy? Mary would reply that it was the Lord Jesus Christ who had continued to bless the Tudor line for His Majesty, whose body she was always made sure to mention, was sacred and so every male born child descendant of Henry VIII, their Lord on Earth.

Susan knew it was all an act. Susan had seen actresses in her time delivering a great performance before their audience earning the applause and credibility of many, but seldom had she seen one act so naturally and hide behind a veil of virtue and morality. Unlike other women no one doubted Mary's word for the very name of Mary Tudor was synonym for virtue and moral cleanliness. She represented piety, the spitting image her mother had instilled in her teachings to Mary.

"He will not" Mary shot back. "He cannot" She said now more calm.

"Do I have your support Susan?"

How could she say no?

"Of course" Mary grinned at her friend's response. Susan went on to say with a mischievous grin adding a little humor-"Who would be there to say besides that I told you so?"

* * *

So they arranged for a trip to Chapuys' cottage where he would be patiently waiting. Nobody in the house questioned them, they saw nothing different in the Duchess' behavior or in their Master's wife, she had been as serious and strict as always with them, constantly reminding them of who they were and that they were in her Household and they had to abide by her rules, and answer her in English or at least make an effort to try.

The mood swings, things that men did not understand, they prayed for the Duchess to deliver that babe early so their torture with her would end.

Mary knew she had to visit the Ambassador before it was too late and she find herself in confinement where there would be no way for her to go anywhere outside her bed chambers except to take a bath.

For two days they behaved as if nothing especial was about to happen, then when the day of July 30th finally arrived, Susan and Jane said to Sophie and the others not to wait for them, in case His Grace, the Duke of Bavaria were to arrive, tell him that she went for a stroll or near the cottage he has east of Hunsdson.

There was no need to question her, not even Sophie who often like Jane, young and impatient would always ask out of curiosity where was her Mistress went. Everyone was so used to see Mary traveling East to her husband's cottage that they no longer asked where she would spend the next few days. Seldom of the people who had seen Eustace had only reported to their Master, her husband, that he had upset the Duchess, and Philip naive as he was, yet loving and so gullible, easy to fall in her lies, had believed everything she said that Eustace Chapuys had only come to disturb the peace of her home. After that the downside had been that she and Philip, more like Philip, had agreed that Eustace would no longer be welcome unless it was of urgent manner to their home.

Theirs -Philip loved using the words theirs. Hunsdson was passing more into his hands, her ownership of it had slipped the moment her father had been told and he in turn told the Court, that Mary was very soon to deliver another son to the Tudor cradle and it would bless England, securing its borders once and for all. Typical of men to feel this way, warriors and crusaders.

Jane Susan helped Mary to the carriage. She felt herself heavier this time than when she had been pregnant with Philip, the pregnancy with Philip had been a very troublesome one, this one not so much, she seldom had morning sickness except for especial occasions, when she would have too much sweets, she would get a terrible aching coming from her baby's kicks. Ironic that Philip who had come from the German warrior who had defended Vienna from the Turks nearly thirteen years ago had been born weak and pale, while this child inside her born from a man whose gout was screwing more of his health, she predicted already judging by the hard kicks he gave her -was going to be born strong and healthy and very impatient, the latter a trait he or she would have from both parents.

It did not take even two hours before they finally reached Chapuys' cottage. It was hidden by the woods and at night hardly anyone would note it was even there, nobody had bought properties here for a long time, this part of the land was not all profitable unless you were a lunatic trying to grow something out of nothing, and with this economy nothing was prospering.

Jane and Susan helped Mary out of the carriage. She could walk fine, though heavy with child, she felt light sometimes, like the child inside made itself light for its mama not to have any difficulties watching.

This was it, she realized, here is where all the deception would begin, where the man whose only thought in the last six months since they had made love had been is this child mine?

 _I am sorry_ -she said after she was greeted by Fleming who welcomed her and her ladies inside where there was Chapuys waiting for her. _Please forgive me for all the lies I will tell._

She dismissed her ladies. Fleming seeing that he was only a fifth wheeler excused himself, his presence as her ladies were hardly missed now.

Only one servant had been brought with him today to the Cottage in this secluded area, Fleming and only two ladies with her, all in all they could say that they could enjoy some privacy.

Eustace's eyes fell on the Princess' heavy and swollen stomach.

 _Inside ..._ the back of his malicious mind told him, _she carries_ **your** _child._

He shook his head mentally. The child could not be his, he had lain with her only once, and she had lain with her husband many times, surely this was just an awful coincidence, yet the possibility that he could have impregnated her, remained there with him and it was not letting him sleep for more than five months since she had announced at Greenwich.

~o~

[Flashback]

_The King's goblet was raised, proud and helped by his usher not to fall as he had risen from his chair, he raised his voice, booming with nothing more than pride, the Queen at his side, the young and sympathetic, loved and respected by everyone, Katherien Howard, Kitty as she was affectionately called, stood from her chair as well as they both declared with a booming voice_

_"The Duke and the Duchess"_

_He was forced to raise his goblet as well, her stomach flat in three or less months give or take would begin to show the signs of the life she carried inside her, but that was not what set Eustace off, it was the question that he was sure she must be asking herself too -was the child his or her spouse's?_

_He would like to think it was Philip, that arrogant, proud and smiling young man._

_Look at yourself Eustace, how low you have sunk! A voice inside told him. To be envious of a mere Duke! It was disgraceful, it was so beneath him to show this behavior, especially at Court where he as a politician knew better than to show his emotional attachment to the Princess, Marillac was there he looked at him, missing the emotional expression that he had shown earlier when the King had announced his daughter's pregnancy. No this was not the time to be emotional, for his sake and to avoid any suspicions, especially from his sniveling and sly rival, Charles de Marillac, he chose to make himself neutral and act as if this event was nothing especial, just another thing to report to his Master._

_~o~  
_

He had lived in agony not knowing whether that (his eyes landed on her belly once again) was product of his seed or the Duke of Bavaria.

Now or never, the time to know had come.

He looked at her expecting her to say something, but no words came out, so it all fell on him.

"Take a seat, I am sure you feel very exhausted from the trip" He said, she gladly accepted. They sat on a small sofa, it was very humble but at least it was comfortable and it gave enough space and privacy for them not to feel too close.

She felt strongly about this.

Her son or daughter, they or he if she only bore one, would change the fate of England, and her destiny as well.

"Milady there is an important matter, I think you would find there is little to say about it, as we both know what it is I am going to ask you next"

She nodded, she was staring directly into his eyes, avoiding at all costs to be lost into his blue eyes, she had to make him believe she was telling the truth.

If Fleming could have been witnessed to see the way she had given herself to him, the way she had loved him on that night they had consummated their union where they were finally free to express themselves after years of their emotional attachments for each other repressed, he would not have had to question his master many times about the validity of his feelings for her.

There was more to the Princess though that met the eye, and even Fleming had known, Eustace had found out too late when he had lain with her, barely hearing his name being whispered as he said hers in whispers. For days he had not been able to live with himself, and just when he thought he was beginning to put that night behind him, that news appears at Court that she was with child. It could not be the Duke of Bavaria, he did the math, no philosopher and not fool her stomach was too big for just five months. Common sense, his greatest ally and companion, told him it had to be his, there was no one around that time she could have slept with.

What this child would bring to them? Nothing but trouble if it resulted in a boy. A boy she would pass off as Philip, and he feared, after hearing from several of the spies he controlled and even from (worse the man he least wanted to hear) Marillac himself, if he was anything as weak like his Uncle the Prince Edward, the Princess youngest son would move to the line of succession, with no Duke of York in the cradle, and stepping over his Uncle and brother's dead shoes (so to speak) the Duchess would be bringing a cuckold into the throne of England. That was something he could not live with, a bastard in the throne of England. Just what this country needed, more bastards.

If he could see himself now, separate the soul from the body he would bet all his pension he would see himself being lost over her deep ocean pools, like waves making him want to swim away from those dangerous waves, yet those eyes they were the very same eyes he had fallen prey for many times. Overcome by the intensity of her dark gray orbs he became confident once more as he spoke.

No run on sentences, no sarcasm, and no cynical behavior this time reflected in his blunt question: "Am I father of that child?"


	23. Let Go

_"One more kiss could be the best thing_   
_Or one more lie could be the worst_   
_And all these thoughts are never resting_   
_And you're not something I deserve_

_In my head there's only you now_   
_This world falls on me_   
_In this world there's real and make believe_   
_This seems real to me_

_CHORUS_   
_you love me but you don't know who I am_   
_I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand_   
_you love me but you don't know who I am_   
_So let me go,_   
_(just) let me go_

_I dream we head to what I hope for_   
_And I turn my back on loving you_   
_How can this love be a good thing_   
_And I know what I'm going through_

_In my head there's only you now_   
_This world falls on me_   
_In this world there's real and make believe_   
_And this seems real to me_

_CHORUS_   
_And you love me but you don't know who I am_   
_I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand_   
_And you love me but you don't know who I am_   
_So let me go, just let me go, let me go_

_BRIDGE_   
_And no matter how hard I try_   
_I can't escape these things inside_   
_I know, I know_   
_But all the pieces fall apart_   
_You will be the only one who knows, who knows_

_CHORUS_   
_You love me but you don't know who I am_   
_I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand_   
_And you love me but you don't know who I am_   
_So let me go, just let me go_

_(you don't know)_   
_You love me but you don't_   
_You love me but you don't_   
_(you don't know)_   
_You love me but you don't know who I am_

_(you don't know)_   
_You love me but you don't_   
_You love me but you don't_   
_(you don't know)_   
_You love me but you don't know me"_

**~ 3 Doors Down -Let me go**

* * *

 

"Madame" He began. No formalities this time, he wanted to get straight to the point and so did she he suspected.

Mary had nothing especial to say, he was being blunt, cold and so -she said to herself- can I. Yet, there was the invasive presence of his blue eyes, they were the bluest she had encountered to date, she could not lie without first looking away, if she looked deeper into his eyes she feared she would loose herself and end up blurting 'yes'.

She had not come all this way to ruin her life, or the child sleeping inside her. Whatever fate awaited her, good or bad she would not let that befall on her children. Let God punish her if she was raising Eustace's bastard, let the heaven fall if this child -should God forbid- were to become King after two great men like his uncle and his older brother, let the devil take her soul, let all the evil in the world befall on her -but not on this child, the child was blameless, if there was one to punish it was its parents.

She looked away staring off into the landscape of Eustace Chapuys' small portrait of his birthplace, Annency.

Her hand, unconsciously landing on her swollen stomach she said to him in a toughened voice "No"

Quick and simple no, he had no reason to question her. It was blunt, it was simple, her no was absolving them from any cardinal sin that could befall on them by the Church or God. The child inside her was another product of a union -he still considered- should never have been, but a sacred union nonetheless recognized by the Pope and by God Almighty.

He should have felt he was absolved from all guilt, and no longer racked by any nightmares of what the future would hold if it was discovered the child was the product of a love affair, but thank God it was not, yet why was it, that his feelings juxtaposed when she confirmed that the child was Philip's and not his?

Why was it he felt no absolution, no hand of God easing his worries, or taking away his fears?

If he did not know his conscience any better, he felt worse than before.

Mary wheeled herself to face Eustace Chapuys' blue eyes, they were not looking at her this time, they had pulled themselves away from her.

No one said a word, no one ... until he finally cleared his throat, with every will power he did not know he possessed he willed himself to meet her dark gray orbs again.

Was this really true? The back of his mind whispered, was she lying to save my skin or worse yet hers and was she really going to put a bastard in the line for the throne of England? God forbid, not if the child is a boy and mine, but if the child is discovered and our love affair exposed -he thought disdain washing over him as he looked at her disgusted. What did she take him for? A fool, Marillac?

If he was anyone else he could have believed her lies, but as it was he could not and pretending that none of what they had was real. Her swollen belly he looked down to it and then back up, was too big for just five months or less. The time of conception, how round her belly was and how swollen it was could only mean one thing -the child was his, not Philip's.

He wanted to say Oh Christ, shout to the four winds, beg for Mercy but Eustace was not one to ask for a second chance, what was done and there was nothing he could do to fix his mistake, he would however fix the future before it went into chaos for the lie of the Princess.

"Who is the father?"

Mary's eyes went wide.

Had he gone deaf?

"Philip is t-"

"Don't lie to me, your stomach is too swollen, and you are very heavy, you can barely walk, I have seen several women pregnant at Court to know that they cannot be that big with child unless they are carrying twins which I think with you milady, pardon my intrusion on this, but is not the case."

"How do you know Excellency? Since when did you become a physician to predict the child's gender?" She asked mockingly.

He was not hurt by the tone of her voice but by the way she looked at him, contempt coming from her eyes she wanted to see him humiliated -or at least that was what he was sure she intended for there was no other reason to explain for her choice of words as she went on.

"Philip lain with me days before you -" Liar he thought, "and then after we ... slept, you and me, he came after and I lain with him again" She said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He felt a huge knot being formed inside his throat making it harder for him to contain his anger, and it was not letting him speak, he felt the words coming out of his mouth devoid of any feeling, he felt hollow inside, with no longer any empathy to give to her. She had shattered it, part of him was very glad to hear those words, to confirm that the bastard inside her was not a bastard but the legitimate son of Philip of Bavaria and the Princess. Yet the other side of him, the side he rarely listened to or paid attention, spoke from the bottom of his soul begging the Princess when she had spoken about her child's parentage, begging him to tell her to stop. That part seemed to overcome his reason like before, the night they had lain on the forest, it told him she was lying that this (her unborn child) was his. He looked for the last time at her, his gaze falling on her swollen stomach.

Philip's -a product of duty, honor and fidelity.

"Excellency?" He heard her speak louder this time. "I know that we can put this behind us. What happened you were right, it was only done out of a moment of stress and we must thank God that it did not go beyond that. Philip and me, we are blessed by this child, and we must put all of this behind us, continue on with our lives. Excellency"

He clutched his cane, he felt older when he heard her finish. He stood from his sofa and walked towards her, nothing but fury in his eyes, he was sure, this time he was not going to hide his disappointment, his shame or his disgust at her.

"Please Excellency is the best for us all" She spoke again, and there a huge hole had been formed by the dagger she had driven into his chest. He wanted to take that dagger, her words and throw them back at her, he wanted her to feel what he was feeling, the pain and anguish of having to live for the past five months worrying about his immortal soul, whether or not the bastard inside her was really his or the son or daughter of another bastard, Philip.

But he did not take the dagger from his heart, he did not voice his discomfort when she spoke about her sexual encounters with Philip, or that she had no trouble hiding from the truth. He regained his cynicism, the thing for which he was known for, admired and despised and with that, his only tool left in him to strike he said to her: "Very well then" No regrets.

 _'Take what you can_ , he heard the voice of his old teacher say, _give nothing back.'_ He would take the dagger that she had punched through his chest and drive it further inside so it would destroy the last piece of his humanity, it would be a reminder of how dangerous it was to fall in love with a woman whose only main thought running around her head was her position at Court. She was a Princess after all, a politician, cold and callous like her mother and father, they all were -he now saw it better. They all were like her, and he was a fool not to see it before. Why had he been such a naive dreamer, what had this woman done to him -he had broken his vows to his master, the Emperor, the Regent, God -he had sacrificed everything for her, for her love -a love he now confirmed was not reciprocate, and most of all he had sacrificed everything for her, to make her happy.

What had he received in return?

He smirked at her, cynically saying before she could leave, clutching his cane tighter, "I will pray that you and the Duke be blessed with a healthy male heir. Good day ... _Madame"_

Mary did not like being spoken in that way, and not with that disrespectful tone, but she understood she had hurt him, she had lifted his spirits, she had made him part of their little lie, she had made him believe that they would be together but after he had woken up in the forest he had seen that no such dream could ever been possible. If he wanted to blame someone for shattering his dream, it should be him, for he had done more to hurt her than she him. She was living in hell day and night wishing for the child not to be his, that she would wake up and find herself next to Philip side, something she dreaded yet she yearned more than nothing, to undo what she did.

But she could not undo the past anymore than he could, and lifting herself up from the old chair she walked closer to Chapuys, only an inch apart Mary opened her mouth bidding him farewell but before she could reply Chapuys turned away.

"You are angry" It was not a question.

He snorted in laughter. My God to where is her naivety conducing her that she has become so insensitive to my pain? But why should she care Eustace, you were just another fling for her, her release from her dull life at Hunsdson -my mind shots back and as much as it hurts me to say it, I have to agree, I was nothing but her tool, her release from her dull life with that Duke.

She wanted to leave this house convinced that I had swallowed her lies, if that is what she wanted then I would gladly give in but not before telling her the truth and what he truly thought about her plan.

"Why thanks for stating the obvious Madame" Madame, he had almost said Mary, but that name no longer had any meaning for him, she had destroyed it the minute she had mentioned that man as her father's child. "The masquerade you put on always eludes me, until now I only need to look closer to see that there is nothing in your eyes but greed. You share nothing more than your father's ambition, you desire to have the world at your feet, because deep down you know that if you die now nobody will shed a tear for you, nobody you love, the only people that could shed tears for you are already lying six feet below the cold hard ground that your father's henchmen buried them."

She shook her head. What right did he have to treat her like this. "Do no compare me with my father Excellency. And what gives you the right to talk to me like this? You are..."

"A commoner Madame?" He finished her sentence. He refused to call her Milady, she had lost his respect the minute she revealed she had slept Philip, almost immediately Hunsdson.

"Yes" Her tone was as cold as the icy floor she had lain on six months ago. "And you would do well to remember it Excellency, you have no right to call me Madame, you shall call me by my title, Your Grace, I am a Duchess, and if you ever disrespect me again I will write to the Emperor personally and see that he replaces you, maybe with someone more worthy of my respect"

He could not help but chuckle at her last comment.

"Respect?" He asked with an incredulous expression bowing his head mockingly to her.

"Stop it" Mary said.

"What should I stop? I give respect to Kings and Queens, you are not a Queen and if you continue to show your open defiance to the Queen, His Majesty's wife and his other courtiers then you will never be Queen, the King will leave you from his will, and his Crown after your brother dies, and mark my words **he will die** " she looked away pretending she was not hearing anything but it was impossible to block his voice from her mind as he went on, "your sons not you Madame will inherit the throne"

She spun furiously, "I will be Queen because my mother willed it, on her deathbed she saw me as this Realm's Queen and when I am Queen you will see Excellency I will cleanse this country from all of its impurities, I will burn and spill as much as I have to! To make this Country a Catholic Kingdom again!"

He clapped. She had really lost her mind, how naive of her by the time, if she got to be Queen, nobody would bow before her, it would be too late, the Country would be completely Protestant by now.

"I will fulfill my destiny Excellency" She said more determined, her gaze penetrating his icy blue orbs.

As if he had read her thoughts, he hit the ground with his cane and shouted to the four winds, his finger pointing at her. "

"I thought of all people you would understand why I am doing this, why is it so important and you even said that yourself -that my reputation remains intact, that my children are legitimate!" She said hoping he would turn to look at her, but her hopes were squashed as his cynical laughter continued. She went on to mention Philip again, trying to make him understand, convincing him of the lie she had worked to hard to create and sounding more convincing, even believing the lie herself replacing the images on the muddy ground those six months ago in Hunsdson, with Philip instead of Eustace -"He is the father Excellency, and he will be named as the father before God and all the Courts. You better get used to it, otherwise your stay here will be very short"

It was now the end of all hope, she sounded so convinced now, she had finally conned not only him but also herself. The lie had become a reality now, no matter what the truth was Mary was going to pass that child as Philip's brat, and no matter how much he prayed or felt resentment towards her for that, especially for having the audacity to admit that she bore no shame for their actions when she slept with Philip after they made love, shattered his restraints for control.

He spun around and walking very fast ignoring all the pain the gout was causing him in his leg he shouted "For the love of Christ! You might believe it, you might chose to swallow and live in a world of make believe but I won't"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked boldly.

"It means that you leave now and never come back, and if you on pain of death I so swear from my mouth I will speak the truth about your child, for I will not be in your little games anymore. What we had my God what a fool you made us both, you conned me, congratulations Princess. I really thought we had something, but all you wanted was a way out of your bored life, taking care of your son, living in a house where you are not allowed to do nothing, here comes me a subject who has always been faithful to you even more than his own master, he makes you feel free again ... and you, I, that is ..." he paused trying to find the right words, he looked up to meet her dark gray orbs, they were hurt now, good he thought, let her be in pain, he didn't give a damn about her feelings anymore "... I became your perfect play mate. Get out"

"Excellency"

"I said get out"

There was nothing more left to say, Mary went to the kitchens were Susan was and told her it was time to go.

Eustace did not hear them depart, by the time Fleming had come to tell him of their departure he was already upstairs locked up in his bedroom, hitting the floor with his cane several times imagining it was her memory she was beaten but no matter how many times he would punish the floor and hit the ground with his cane, her memory could never be erased, it had become a part of him now and he was going to live with it, as she said.

* * *

 _"We always deceive ourselves twice about the people we love — first to their advantage, then to their disadvantage."_ ~ **Albert Camus**

* * *

**Hampton Court Palace**

The next month things returned back to normal. The Princess returned to Hunsdson to receive her husband. He was ecstatic of course to learn that the child his wife carried inside her was growing and at great speed, they were truly blessed he had said. He showed her off before all the Courtiers, at Court she was seen as the Madonna heavy with child. CHapuys had to stand her looks, her kiss to Philip when they returned to Hampton, him included because he was commissioned by his master to report every new activity at Court, especially when it concerned his cousin.

Mary of Hungary was more adamant than Charles V, pressuring Chapuys to insist on the King of England and even, to his dismay, the Duke of Bavaria, about the marriage proposal between one of their own, a Hapsburg Imperial or an Portuguese noblewoman to be the next and future Duchess of Bavaria, maybe even Queen someday if the Queen failed to produce any male heirs, or heirs period.

Chapuys by this month suspected that Katherine Howard would never have any children, and it was evident that there was a lot of pressures laid on that poor, delicate and young creature's arms. If the Duchess of Bavaria, her archenemy did not bear a healthy son or no son or daughter at all, Queen Katherine Howard would be now more forced to bare His Majesty's son.

He refused to be in this Court even more.

The musicians played another tune, French as they were the Queen's favorite, and the Duke of Bavaria so lost in his lady's dark gray orbs invited her before everyone to dance, now as heavy as she was with child she requested to everyone not to jest about her slow movements, everyone laughed at her small joke, including Her Majesty. She was not really laughing with her, Chapuys knew, she was more laughing at the Duke of Bavaria, the man who had befriended Kitty and had been one of the few to support her, unlike his wife, in the first months after she had married the Duchess' father.

And there was also the product of Duchess, what she was carrying, if a healthy son (Chapuys dreaded at the thought) it would raise the Duke on top of the highest mountain, he would be lavished with titles and gifts, and all thanks to his sons and the woman who carried him, for it was thanks to her royal blood that he had been making friends so fast with the other Heretics. Ironic, he says he loves his wife, Chapuys thinks as he watches the Duke and the Duchess dance slowly at the French tune that the musicians were playing for them. Yet as the Duke kissed her cheeks and Chapuys frowns, he realizes it is not the idea of her love that draws the Duke toward Mary, but all the benefits he would continue to enjoy if she brought him more children, mainly males.

He left the "happy" scene and headed to his Quarters, he did not bother to hear Marillac complaining on how easy it was to upset him, he would live Marillac for another day, but the pain in his chest was more important and as deeper as he pushed the dagger she had pushed in his chest, the harder it was for him to breathe and to see her smiling with her swollen belly, looking as radiant as ever.

He had failed her, and he had failed himself for ever thinking that a woman like her, fine, beautiful and a Princess no less, could love someone as broken like him.


	24. Masquerade

_"Of love I have learned that is not kind and sweet, but cruel and an unforgiven that plagues that sweeps you from your feet making you feel high. It lacks beauty so it wishes, and when it has it -it consumes you, however some forms of love learn to cope with their ugliness and when they do this accepting what each of their other halves are, love becomes forgiving and merciful, it becomes something beautiful, but rarely does this love happen"_ **~ Purity by Anonymous**

* * *

 

Marillac watched the Ambassador go. There was something strange going on -he figured, it was the second time now since the day before yesterday that he leaves Court at the exact moment that the Duchess of Bavaria would be asked to dance by her spouse. Curious, thought Marillac, if he did not know better ...

No, that was impossible -how could the Ambassador ever love a Princess like her, even a bastard one who so out of his reach? He had to be joking, that could never, not in a thousand, not even in a million years happen! Charles de Marillac assured himself that it was all his imagination, the Ambassador was an old and broken man who had to support his (though he wasn't heavy as the King, then again Marillac told himself, nobody was as heavy as the King of England) light weight and use a walking stick for his gout infected leg was rendering him more useless..

Then there were the lines in his face denoting his old age, and the cynical smile that would adorn his lips whenever he would engage in conversation with anyone, including the Duchess, Princess Mary. There was something odd in all of his behavior thought. Chapuys was a man who would never let himself fall prey to his emotions, yet he was a man like no other, he had needs, he had desires, and he was easily victim to fall prey of the demon of desire, and -Marillac thought, now taking a better look to the Princess swollen stomach, where England's next best hope lay- who wouldn't fall prey to lust for her? After seeing how radiant the Princess, the thought of her must have passed through the Imperial Ambassador's mind, a lonely and sad creature like her, could easily be driven to sin if she found the right partner who would give her everything that her husband could not -love, understand and affection -all those things that women always craved.

Things though that were out of her reach if she indeed was having a platonic love affair with His Excellency, since not only was the Ambassador as cold hearted as the icebergs at the end of the world, but if someone where to drive a dagger into his heart they would find it broken, the Ambassador's heart was made out of stone as the rest of his character,he was an opportunist not different than Marillac or any other politician before him. Now as the music ended and the Duchess and the Duke of Bavaria retired from the dance floor to rest of any stress that could harm their babe, Marillac retired from the Court scene, he had one informant in the Duchess' Household, if he could get his informant to find out what the real nature of the Princess and the Ambassador's relationship was ... he just could find his next promotion stepping over Chapuys' worn out shoes so to speak, he would become the greatest influential mind in England, his Country and his Master would finally gain the upper hand over the Empire making England their eternal ally.

* * *

_"The greatness comes not when things go always good for you, but the greatness comes when you are really tested, when you take some knocks, some disappointments, when sadness comes; because only if you've been in the deepest valley can you ever know how magnificent it is to be on the highest mountain... Always give your best. Never get discouraged. Never be petty. Always remember: Others may hate you. But those who hate you don't win, unless you hate them. And then, you destroy yourself."_

**~Richard M. Nixon on August 9, 1974 last address as President in the White House before his departure.**

* * *

The day after Chapuys had left for a second time the Court after the Princess and the Duke began to dance at the beat of the French music the King's orchestra was playing,Chapuys his back propped against his pillows was having a hard time dealing with the situation. Mary of Hungary was pressing him with the matter of the betrothal, and then there was Marillac , he had seen the suspicious look cross that French weasel's face. He knew he was not going to let the matter of him and the Princess rest.

Did he even suspect he and the Princess had ...?

He shook his head.

Charles de Marillac was a cunning, sniveling little weasel but he didn't have the brains nor the imagination to solve even the simplest of puzzles. He had a suspicion nothing more, but even so Eustace knew he couldn't let his guard down even for Marillac.

He was not wearing many clothes today, he had just got up and put on a chemise hiding the scars in his back and on the rest of his aching muscles. He was sure there had to be something in the food he ate last night, it was the meat, must have been. Again, if he was inAnnency or he would have stayed in Antwerp he would not have to suffer under the incompetence of bad cooks. Everything the English cooked was bad cooked or barely, especially pork and chicken, cows sometimes they would acquire a fine taste but only if the meat was dipped in gravy or salted enough to add a better taste. The chicken and pork were rarely cooked right, and the English loved to gorge themselves in huge chunks of those poor animals they had slaughtered, sometimes even that would not satisfy their appetite, they would always have to ask for more, just like their King little was not enough there always had to be more. It was disgusting even to watch them eat, he had to cover his mouth the first time he had arrived in this Country to hide his disgust for them.

How old he felt, grabbing his cane -this walking stick, he noted, this (he looked at his walking stick) was the only thing keeping him from falling and for months now he had to use even when he got out of bed, something that caused him great frustration for the reminder of his age would now follow him everywhere. In six months since -it happened his leg had gotten worse. He could still walk without it at times, but he would risk being the victim of excruciating pain. His counterpart was right, he was old and at this rate he was becoming closer to being the cripple Marillac always teased him for, implying he should retire as soon as possible before he would die on them and become a greater embarrassment for the Empire.

In the afternoon, and hour after he had woken up and began to get dressed to meet with the King, a storm broke out making it impossible for any of its inhabitants to leave the palace for at least two days until the storm ended. It was not common for a storm to last this long, but alas the weather had been a funny thing to behold lately. When they thought it would be cold the weather would turn hot almost immediately, the sunlight on the King's face almost mockingly hitting the elder man and blocking his vision leaving him almost blind to appreciate his young thing he called "Queen" precious gemstones on her french style tiara. Chapuys had been there when the sun had hit the King's face too, the heat unbearable and the weather making no sense when at night it had turn terribly cold, that had been only yesterday.

"God was angry" he would hear Raphael complain to Fleming.

"God is not angry Raphael, but he will be if you keep speaking nonsense, God has no time to hear the weak, you can't let a change in the weather scare you man" He said to Raphael after he brought him a hot cup of tea. Fully dressed he should have met with the King hours ago, but he had been so lost staring at the rainy landscape from his window that Fleming and Raphael's heavy knocks were what had made him realized he was only loosing time.

The boots were not making anything easy, he felt the material too cold and the tea did little to make him feel warm.

He was beginning to think after he dismissed Raphael and Fleming, that the young Spaniard was right, God was not against England, he was against Eustace and this was his form of punishment for having had no common sense when he had lain with the Princess.

Unfortunately he had no time to say his apologies to the Lord. He had greater business to attend to, giants to meet and rivals to crush before they got too close to the truth.

Always crush an enemy, lessons number one in politics and in life, his life and the circles he had been in before England had taught him that.

And he had to be angry, he would use the pain in his gout, the dagger in his chest of his lady's words, remember her face as she had kissed the Duke in front of all the court, laid his hand on her swollen stomach making him believe that she held England's next salvation, so when he met with the King he would be fearless and he would use his anger, his bitterness to accomplish his mission, and make the Empire be the first to the finish line with the alliance his Master and Mary of Hungary desired -between Lord Philip Tudor-Wittelsbach and a lady from the Hapbsburg house- before Marillac's influence would lure the King back to a French alliance.

* * *

Later that night after the negotiations had finished, the King was holding a ball to celebrate on his daughter's pregnancy, for a son he had yelled raising his goblet with the rest imitating as the drones they were their master, they drank from their fine wine, some drank ale and gave a loud cheer for the young Duke and Duchess of Bavaria.

Mary by now was very far along, in reality she was seven months along but she had to make it as God had blessed them with her enormous belly. Philip had been very easy to deceive, he believed God was working in their favor, and Mary was celebrated -she was so caught in the glitz and the enhanced appearance of attractiveness around the Tudor Court that her father had organized for her, that she had forgotten altogether that if it wasn't for the product in her belly none of this would have ever been possible.

Susan had taught it possible to hide her sneer behind the Duchess when she said to Sophie that she never felt more happy in her life to be considered by her father and the rest of the Court, to be admired and gawked at like she was a Goddess.

When she heard Susan sneer Mary walked to her best friend's direction. If it wasn't because they were in the middle of the Court room Mary would have scolded her, but as it was she had to behave and smile sweetly as Philip came their way giving Mary a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"Of course not Philip me and Susan we were just going to talk about how lavished the decoration are, right Susan?" She asked her chief Lady in Waiting.

Susan was forced to play along, what more could she do but put on a mask of happiness for her friend and his clueless husband.

After she nodded Philip turned back to Mary whom he now kissed fully on the lips, it was an affectionate and tender kiss, yet she did not find herself returning it. She did not feel stimulated by it. The way Philip had looked at her should make any woman melt, but she had not felt anything when his lips made contact with hers, it just made her feel even more hollow.

Philip was surprised to find his wife's lips still instead of responding to his affection like she had done before.

"Is something wrong? You were shivering when I kissed you" He said disconcerted.

She shook her head. "No Philip" she reassured. "I am fine"

"Mary are you sure, maybe we should leave now so you can rest"

Mary shook her head, looking at Susan and then to Philip whom she continued sweetly, the glamour had to be kept for her sake. Her hand traveled to her swollen stomach, giving a light chuckle she reassured Philip that everything was fine, "You are not interrupting anything, except my happiness by you being next to me"

The scene was too disgusting for Susan to look, just remembering when she had come to Hunsdson with her dress all stained by mud and her hair disheveled crying and mourning for what she and the Ambassador had done, now to see her like so uncaring for the Ambassador, so deceitful and her face a mask of lies!

It became too much for her, without asking for their permission Susan just left, let Mary say something to her, let her sneer as she had sneered at her Mistress. She did not care anymore what Mary did, it was her life, her baby's and her risk -a great one -her mind roared if Mary continued on with the lie!

Mary watches Susan walk past her other ladies, she would talk to Susan later. She would not let her spoil the party her father had worked so hard for. She was finally being acknowledged, after this child, if he was a boy -a voice in her head said- he would bring her even more joy for Philip's heir he could have to teach and to hold, but this second son she would have now to love and to hold. This boy would be hers and it would be an added bonus to her importance, her father would realize that she and not Katherine Howard not other wench of his could bring heirs to this Kingdom, she would finally be reinstalled in her father's heart, she would be his favorite once more -she thought marveling at the prospect of sitting next to him just like her sister, the Queen's favorite was sitting next to him now in the High table. How she yearned to be back next to her father, to share his love -she dreamed.

"What are you thinking?" Asked Philip intrigued as he saw the glint in her eyes when she diverged her gaze to her sister.

She turned to Philip the glint in her eyes gone by now as she made contact with his deep emerald orbs. "Nothing, I was just thinking of how we are going to call our son when he is born"

He gave her a wider grin than hers, and placing his hand on her belly he said: "I don't care if this is a boy or a girl, we have a son, it doesn't matter much Mary."

Mary mentally laughed at Philip's naivety, he was still too innocent and inexperienced in this Court despite his growing friendship with her father's councilor and the Archbishop, a friendship she still did not approve but she had not said anything since she realized no matter what she said her husband would still see them, and who was she according to his principles to defy or challenge him? Weren't women supposed to be submissive, to be mares whose only importance lay on their wombs? Mary had long since fought Philip's decision, she had found new ways to challenge him without having to utter a single word to him.  
Silence, as Sir Thomas Moore would once say, can be our greatest weapon, and it also came Mary's best way of overcoming her sadness when she had been alone at Hunsdson or having to bear the dreaded visits to Hever Castle where Katherine Howard would always be present.

"Of course but I feel it will be a boy" She ended up saying, and against her better judgment she leaned forward and let Philip kiss her again, this time she responded the kiss by imagining it was not his soft lips she was kissing but the rough and imperfect lips of another. And later after the celebration ended and they departed to their chambers, she imagined that the same lips she had imagined instead of Philip's belonging to that man that she vowed never to think of until now, that it was him sleeping next to her with his arms around her waist telling her "I love you"


	25. Who I really am

_"Never made it as a wise man_  
couldn't cut it as a poor man steeling  
tired of living like a blind man  
I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling

 _And this is how you remind me_ _  
This is how you remind me of what I really am_ _  
this is how you remind me of what I really am  
__It's not like you to say sorry  
__I was waiting for a different sorry  
__I was waiting on a different story_ _  
This time I am mistake_ _n for handing you a heart worth breaking_ _  
And I have been wrong,_ _I have been down into the bottom of every bottle._ _  
These five words in my head: **Are we having fun yet?**  
It is not like you did not know that  
I said I love you and I swear I still do  
And I swear it must have been so bad  
Cause living with me must have damn near killed you  
And this is how you remind me of what I really am  
This is how you remind me of what I really am  
__It's not like you to say sorry  
__I was waiting for a different sorry  
__I was waiting on a different story_ _  
This time I am mistake_ _n for handing you a heart worth breaking_ _  
And I have been wrong,_ _I have been down into the bottom of every bottle._ __  
These five words in my head: **Are we having fun yet?  
** Never made as a wise man  
I couldn't cut it as a poor man's stealing  
And this is how you remind me ... this is how you remind me  
This is how you remind me of what I really am  
This is how you remind me of what I really am  
It is not like you to say sorry  
I was waiting for a different story  
This time I am mistake for handing you a heart worth breaking  
And I have been wrong, I have been down into the bottom of every bottle  
These five words in my head: **Are we having fun yet?  
Are we having fun yet?**  
**Are we having fun yet?**  
**Are we having fun yet?"**  
**~Nickleback -How you remind me**

* * *

 

**1542, September 13** **th**

**Greenwich**

Mary screamed from the top of her lungs as she felt the baby coming, it had not been a hard pregnancy like her first son, she had been due in one week perhaps a little more but the baby eager to escape from his mother's womb had made her into labor soon.

Susan had handled the situation quite well, this birth was very different from the other where her lady had lasted more than half a day to give birth, this labor session turned out not to be so bad for her. Mary barely felt any pain.

Philip was with her, waiting outside their chamber for any news about her condition or the baby's. She knew that he cared more about the safety of this baby, she hated to say, she hated to admit it, but it was true, but Susan told her to think of that later, just one push –she told her "And you will can complain all you" she said.

"Ah" she gave one last push as the midwives told her, Elsa de Goya the only midwife she could trust, when she had said push she complied and she pushed as her life depended on it.

A baby's cries made Mary fall backwards her lied lying against her two soft pillows.

She couldn't, even if she wanted to, fall asleep. She had to know what was it, a boy, a girl?

"Esther!" she pressed the midwife to tell her.

The midwife whom she had bonded with since the deliver of her fast child walked to Mary and in clean blankets having cleaned up most of the baby's body she showed it to her.

"A boy" Esther said softly smiling as she watched her lady's face becoming a whirlpool of emotion, first shock, surprise, then dismay, shame remembering that this child, this boy was a product of sin but they soon vanished as she took her son from Esther and she began to play with him, holding his little fingers saying –"Hello, I am your mama" and he smiled wider, she heard that babies can't smile but he did, he was smiling just for her.

Giving him back to Esther who ordered the midwifes' to clean him up, Mary told Jane who was on the opposite side of the bed staring directly at Susan and Mary, to get Philip here and tell him the good news that she had delivered England another son.

By the time Philip came seconds later, her maids and midwives, where always changing the bloodstained bed sheets and replacing them with new, fresh and scented new ones. Mary was changed into a cleaner gown.

His joy evident he asked her too lazy to scan the room for himself "Where is he?" the first thing that came to mind, Mary thought reliving the past experience of her first pregnancy, Philip was paying close attention to the boy than her. Mary had done her duty, she had delivered what he and the rest of the men wanted, a male heir, a healthy male heir and that was the only thing, she realized again, that would ever get her recognition from her other peers.

She looked to Philip's direction. He had taken from Elsa's arms her son and he began to cradle him, grabbing his little fingers as her son raised his hand to touch his father's well trimmed bear making Philip chuckle at him even more.

Philip fell in love when he saw his son being cradled by his wife, he had leaned closer to see his little boy. He was almost an exact copy of his wife, his cheeks, his eyebrow, nearly everything from head to toe, except for his eyes and lighter auburn hair (with tints of yellow) he was the carbon copy of his wife.

"May I?" He asked. Soon he felt his son's delicate form on top of his hands. The baby squealed in completely excitement as it saw the smiling face of his father. This son, he thought with pride, he was flesh of his flesh, now his wife would become the most celebrated woman in all Christendom, her father would now treat her with respect, and they –they would be like Julius Cesar and Cleopatra uniting both England and Bavaria through their two heirs –especially through this little one. His eyes could not help but be captivated by those blue eyes of his, so different from his wife's and his. Where this little one had gotten such blue eyes that were as light blue as the day sky he had no idea, but he did not care. Soon as Philip had seen his son he realized great things would be expected from this child, who was already hungry for everyone's attention. Not for dependency or a shoulder to cry on like his other son little Philip, Henry craved the attention because he wanted to laughed with others, he did not want approval he wanted others to want his approval.

"What will you name him?" Philip asked her.

Mary raised an eyebrow. Was Philip actually considering her opinion for once in naming her son? He was not going to intervene?

No, she thought, it sounded to good to be true.

However Philip, sensing her thoughts spoke right away reassuring Mary, "I would be glad if you name him. Give him a strong name"

She went into deep thought, her son did deserve a strong name, he had a long road of him having to endure the stigma of his parents' sin. He would never know though, until the day she dies she would take the secret to his grave.

Philip was beaming with pride and joy, his son, proud and healthy -it was all that mattered now, England how lucky England would be if only Henry had been his first son, it would have had a more strong and healthier heir, but alas as it was Henry had the misfortune of being born a little more than a year after his sickly brother. Unlike Philip he would not enjoy the best tutors or be lavished with gifts, Henry would always be a reminder though that he and Mary had succeeded where the King had many times failed. Bringing England a healthy and strong heir.

Mary smiled at the scene of her husband and his "son" complimenting each other through their smiles.

"He is going to be a warrior. He can't stand one minute now if I don't look him, he barely cries Mary just like you he is strong" Philip mentioned turning back to look at his son.

* * *

**September 16** **th**

**Greenwich**

Three days later at the baptizing ceremony, one that Mary had not agreed since she thought it was a Heretic and invalid ceremony in her opinion, but in the end like last time she had no say in the matter, Chapuys was forced to attend, at first he thought of a million ways to make excuses but he knew that he had to be there to report, the Imperial presence at every English social event was important, especially one as important as this one.

He didn't want to see Marillac, but he preferred to be closer to his enemy, feed on his envy and rage for Eustace than not to be here and let Marillac have the upper hand, giving France the advantage as well over the Empire.

He tried pushing every feeling he might feel like attachment for a baby he does not even know yet, but as he hears the baby's soft giggles a hole is formed in his chest and he finds himself clutching his cane tighter.

The Herald after the Christening ceremony had ended, cried to make way for the Lord Henry, the King's grandson he announced a title given immediately by His Majesty after he declared him The King's grandson. It was a title that marked the boy's significance. The people of His Majesty clapped their hands in approval as the boy's new title that had been bestowed by their monarch, was shouted by the Herald.

He felt a pang of guilt watching how the Princess carried on that heavy burden, he wanted to leave yet his curiosity did not let him to and his master –he remembered- told him to stay until the very end unless his gout was too much for him to bear. He knew what Charles meant, he did not care about his leg but he knew that in any case Eustace would admit his ability to overcome the pain in his leg, the pity he had shown Chapuys in his letter would make him ignore all the pain and overcome all obstacles.

He saw how the Princess walked with such grace, still holding in her arms the ecstatic infant with her husband next to her to Their Majesties direction. She behaved with extreme wisdom as she bowed her head in respect for the Queen.

She showed no longer any signs of hatred or regret for what the Queen was, where she came from or what had she done to remove two of her former maids from her service.

His lady behaved with such wisdom and had regained such composure that she gave the allusion that she was Katherine of Aragon in the flesh facing her enemies without any fear.

The air had changed since the birth of her son. Now the entire Court had reason to celebrate every day for England was no safe, it had three heirs, two whom were healthy but whom they remained positive that the Lord would grant them long life and prosperity in their respective rules, and the third whom was all the opposite –ironic –he considered, coming from a man like him who was old and afflicted with gout, in contrast to young Philip, the boy's older half brother who was weak and very pale and unlike Lord Henry's _real father_ , Philip had come from a very healthy and young man.

He works in mysterious ways the back of his mind said.

Indeed he could not help but to reply to the voice of his subconscious.

When the Princess

Chapuys moved past the crowds, the sounds of approval and clapping was becoming too deafening for his ears, and then the baby's laughter it was like another dagger had been plunged into his heart leaving him feeling numb. He had to get out of there, the Princess he was sure, the boy's mother saw him and she would try to go to his side before he successfully made his leave,

When he reached his bedchamber he lied against his back, his gaze staring off into space. He seemed to see past the ceiling into the night sky. A bad omen he realized, the skies had turned dark for the time of the Princess' son baptizing … his son a dark voice told him.

No –he shouted back at it. He was not his son, he had no son, Philip of Bavaria had a son, this was his second son who had just elevated him higher than any other man on England.

He turned quickly to give another look at the boy. The baby was still smiling and his father was returning his smiles. Lord Henry –as the child would be known from now on- blue eyes looked at his father with approval, he had already bonded with him, Eustace was just prolonging his suffering, he decided to walk away back to his bedchamber where he hoped to find some peace.

Chapuys did not want to think if this was God's way of showing his anger at the child's parent.

No –you must not think of it anymore Eustace. He kept telling himself he had done the right thing as she, ignoring the child's parentage and choosing to believe a lie however unlike the woman whose warmth he still felt on his chest –in exact spot where he still kept the dagger an allegory to remind him of all the pain he had endured for her- he realized of the pain and anguish he was causing himself by not leaving the memory of _that boy_ when he had gazed as his father (the Duke –he thought disdainfully) welcoming his _father's_ smiles.

He should have remembered how the first of Mary's boys had smiled at him, the real Duke of Bavaria's son had refused to see his real father responding only to his mother, his step grandmother and to Eustace. That had set Philip off no doubt, to have his sole son, his only son so far becoming attached to his sworn enemy. Philip called him the scorn of all scorn, coming from him Chapuys was not sure whether he should feel flattered or annoyed that it was a boy who was causing Eustace this pain in his chest that made it worse as he remember the little boy's eyes. They were light blue as his mother's the same eyes **he** bore.

When he had left the Christening he had heard the babe laugh harder as the other gathered around him. Finally, she must thought, the Duchess. She had given the son and heir that England had always wanted –healthy, strong, robust, and rosy chubby cheeks. Now England had three possible heirs, Edward, Philip and … Henry.

If either of the first two died, Henry would be the one left to step in his relatives dead shoes' so to speak, he would be come King Henry IX, he would make everyone, especially his grandfather very proud, a true Tudor but most of all he would continue on with his father's policies and he would continue on with the Reform.

Chapuys feared that prospect, he found himself praying what he never thought he would ask of God before, to give the silly young Queen a child, a male boy so there would be no question of the child's legitimacy so the Queen would live and she would become an anointed Queen like the Concubine his cousin Anne Boleyn, so her son Lord Henry would never have the need to take up the crown and continue on with his father's work, for he feared that if Henry ever took the crown he would become the man his grandfather was now, cruel and insensitive with no regard for human life.

He was not the sort of man to believe in miracle yet he was praying today for one. Everything to this point would be better than to see a bastard on the Crown England –his bastard.

So much damage had already been done, he didn't need to bear anymore guilt looking at his offspring's eyes. Eustace soon arrived in his bedchamber clearing his bed of all the bed sheets, he had retired everyone, including Fleming. It had cost him a lot of patience to stand for Fleming's "articulated" speech when he explained what was the real reason behind his anger.

_"Thanks Fleming for worrying about me, your altruism keeps surprising me as your naivety"_

_"You mean my sympathy for your situation"_

Fleming had crossed the line there, he had seen it and before Eustace could scold him he heard Fleming covering his mouth laughing discreetly at the pain and shock in his eyes. Had the world gone mad then? He had thought when he heard Fleming speak how it was very easy even for a blind man to read Eustace just by the sudden shifts in his voice, then he went on to mention his sympathy how he was completely wrong about his altruism - _"Altruism would be me in the Duchess of Bavaria's company going to give charity to those poor souls in the slums of London, but oh that is right I can't, no man can't because it is now her husband who does the job for her and for you"_ He wanted to slap Fleming, who was he to say these things?

Cynic -he had mentally shouted saying daggers when he glared at his butler.

Were you so different when you were young? A voice in the back of my mind had asked him after I practically had to push Fleming out of the room and tell him not to come back until he had the good sense of finding out what privacy meant!

What I was really that different when I was young, much younger than Fleming maybe thirty years younger than that man? Fleming was slightly older than me, you would think that with age came wisdom.  
I told myself that I was different, that I was cold, a true cynic at heart but I know that is not true, I am only lying to myself. There have always been those I had been willing to risk my life and my position for. The first was during my second time in the English Court when I had come to replace Don Mendoza, my former colleague. When I had found out what was going to happen to the poor Queen and her daughter, I had rushed to their aide, I had pleaded with the King, I was this close to being on my knees when I practically was asking him for mercy for the Queen to see her sick daughter, to tend her and give her love and comfort. My pleas were mildly answered. The King had sent his physicians to treat her, thankfully the Princess had been alright, but the Queen was never to see her daughter after she had refused to accept that her marriage was invalid before the eyes of God and the King's new church.  
I had risked myself further when I had plotted to Brereton more outrageous ways to get ride of the whote, he had failed of course and I had learned not to be too reliable on rich fanatic fools like him.  
There was always something, an ideal, a job -simple or not- mission that he always felt it was felt he valued as sacred to fulfill. His late friend Erasmus -with the Archbishop of Canterbury's death, Warham a man he reflected upon, had been a true church men and not the lap dog of the heretics like Cranmer, Erasmus had been close to becoming penniless, his secretary and I did a lot to avoid that.

I helped him -Eustace says to himself- constantly sending him money. asking for his health, never missing to respond a letter for him, in the end though he could never protect the people he worried for from the ultimate obstacle -death.

Death was his worst enemy, and yet his close ally. It followed him everywhere, he could it feel it now her strong and cold presence whispering in his ear how he was closer in her grasp now. The son -it taunted- that the Princess bore, would be his ultimate downfall and this time death continued to taunt him, there would be nothing he could do to escape from her clutches.

* * *

She didn't want to see him go, but it was his decision and there was nothing she could about it. Besides this was her son's day, she would not let anything ruin it.

"I have done it" She said to herself as Philip passed her son to her. Her son was a little hesitant at first but soon he grew calmer as he saw his mother's dark gray orbs staring back at him, how different he was from his older brother, they were only a year apart and yet they were so different.

For one her little Philip was more dependant he constantly needed human touch, while Henry he seemed to do fine without her, yet he loved and craved the attention, he was going to grow up to be like her grandfather she realized, craving everyone's attention and surrounding himself by the most beautiful women and people in England.

Such thought brought shivers down her spine, if anything she would make sure this child would not grow as spoiled as Philip, a second son and of less importance than Philip she could take him under her wing, she could choose his tutors and she could take it as her life's mission that he would grow up to be a fine Catholic Prince, the king of Prince she hoped that in the worst of cases, God forbid –but she had to be prepared, her father after all was a second son, and Edward as her first born did not enjoy the best health- should he become King of England he could return England to the true church.

Yes this baby was hers, and nobody would take him away from her.

She heard Kitty's voice, asking for her son to hold him in her arms, Mary was ready to tell her an outright no, but she remembered her life's lessons, is better to fight through silent rebellion than to engage in verbal conflict.

She was tired of conflict, her firstborn's delivery had taken a toll on her physically as spiritually, her second pregnancy hadn't been as hard, the delivery had been quick and there had been little contractions, but she didn't want to stress herself just in case it could still be dangerous to her, as Susan reminded her earlier (she being the proud mother of two children like Mary, and having had experience delivering other babies, Mary knew better than to contradict her) it could still be dangerous for her health.

Mary let her son be taken by Katherine Howard. Her son loved being in the Queen's arms much to Mary's dismay, it was the second time the Queen had stolen attention from her offspring however unlike Philip who had returned the Queens' smiles, Henry began to cry in the Queen's arms.

Mary felt satisfaction as she saw the rejection in the Queen's eyes, poor Kitty Howard the back of her mind said, she had felt humiliated, a child had beat her where his mother never could drawing negative attention from the rest of the Court present at the Christening.

So the child was returned to Mary's arms. This day Mary found was getting better and better.

After the Christening had ended the child had fallen asleep in her arms fast after everyone returned to their respective Quarters, since he was only a second son his importance was not as much as his elder brother, but Mary didn't care the child had rejected Kitty Howard, she had humiliated and drawn negative attention toward her from all her father's Courtiers present at the ceremony, and then the Archbishop Cranmer, it was the only thing Mary regretted that her son had not rejected that Heretic, but instead he had welcomed the Archbishop of Canterbury with open arms stretching out to him as if he was God when the Archbishop had pour at the baby's head at the start of the ceremony the Holy Waters baptizing him in English, something Mary dreaded.

She had wished Bishop Gardiner would have conducted the ceremony, she had even told Philip he would have been a better choice, but Philip said that that would be impossible, her father would never allow it and besides, he had added –Archbishop Cranmer was practically family, something that made Mary's stomach turned upside down in disgust. How could Philip be so naïve as to think Cranmer or that Satanic man Cromwell were on their side? Cranmer was on the side of everyone as long as they swore loyalty to his demonic Church, he was a fanatic and he bore no resentment when the King would sent innocent people, her people –Catholic, Mary reflected- to the stake to burn. And Cromwell –she didn't want to think about Cromwell, the man was a greater opportunist than any other politician, he had been the one responsible besides the late whore Anne Boleyn to influence his father to break away from his faith, to declare himself Head of the Church and on top of all he had been responsible for bastardizing her and her mother's humiliation when she had been forced to live and die at a castle not fitting for a Queen, not even for a Princess Dowager, the title she was forced to bear in the last three years of her poor life.

She hated that man, and she told Philip this a thousand times however Philip was too naïve, and easily swayed by older and more cunning, sly men like Cromwell.

He would see, she thought, when the time comes she would see past Cromwell's deception, she only hoped -as she and Philip retired all of their servants from their chambers and he being the first one to undress to put on more comfortable clothing, she following later after she settled her son in the crib next to his parents' bed- that Philip would see past Cranmer's mask as well that he was only using him and the lands he was to inherit from his dead relatives, all of whom were declared Heretics.

Just as her son finally closed her eyes Mary began to undress as well. Unlike other Royal couples Mary and Philip never asked their servants to undress them, they undressed themselves, because she had always said to Susan they were man and wife and they wanted to be intimate as possible, and with servants coming and going to dress them it would take that effect away.

"Mary" Philip asked after his wife had settled next to him on their bed.

"Yes?" She asked turning to Philip.

"You were very quiet today in the Christening, and when the Archbishop had baptized our Henry I saw your disapproval" Philips said softly. He had to remind her that Cranmer was his ally and by that extension he was also hers, he was taking care of their heir's household and he would soon take care of Henry's, it was still ridiculous –Philip considered- that Mary showed that insolent behavior toward him. She knew better than to defy her father's men, everyone knew what happened to those who defied Cromwell.

"It is nothing" she said

Philip shook his head, no it was nothing, he didn't want her to avoid the question this time, "Mary" he said "why is it so hard for us to talk about this? Please" his eyes pleaded bearing deeply into her dark gray orbs penetrating through the once solid layer that Eustace Chapuys had made thinner and easier for others to see into the darkest corners, into the depth of her soul. "when are we going to be honest with each other?"

"I said it is nothing Philip, now let us sleep I am very tired, please I beg of you" Now it was her turn to look at him pleadingly, he however would not let the matter drop.

He grabbed her shoulder turned her to his side, his eyes had shifted now becoming more demanding. "Mary it will do us no good if you keep up with this."

"I don't trust Cromwell"

"And what makes you think I trust him? I don't trust anybody except for you maybe, but if we want to be in your father's good graces we have to stick together and give our respects to him. You know what they say about him -defying him is like defying the King himself" He emphasized. "You of all people know what he is capable of, what your father is capable of"

Mary opened her mouth to answer but quickly closed it, pressing her lips together she restrained herself. There was some logic in his argument, however she couldn't find herself agreeing with it, that would be like asking the sun not to rise or the moon not to be full tonight. Cromwell had destroyed her life, but as Philip went on to mention while she remained silent -he had also been responsible for her survival.

Yes that was true, but did Philip know that she had to submit to his every absurd request, that she had little freedom while she always wrote to him as her "dear and most loyal friend". She doubted Philip was even beginning to scratch the surface of what she had really gone through after Jane Seymour's death, and during the time she was left alone with an incompetent Ambassador, Maioris who did little for her except greet her and make empty promises. This was during the time that Chapuys had been away, but she couldn't mention that for she knew how jealous and angry Philip could get when she mentioned him so she chose in the end to do what any good wife does when she is given a sermon by her loving husband -she nodded and told him that she would do her best -from now on- to give the Master Secretary, the Archbishop, and the Queen as well as all who were just as influential, to show her respect to them. She silently cursed herself for it.

Philip smiled after his wife gave in. She was learning, her rebellious spirit had finally been put to rest.

"I am so happy, this is the best for all of us, you will see" He said softly going to kiss her lips however Mary did not return the kiss, she feigned exhaustion and closed her eyes pretending to be asleep.

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

**I** was not sure how long it had passed since the storm had ended. I still kept staring off into space looking at nothing in particular my eyes at the ceiling. Somewhere above God was looking at me disapprovingly, and my mother, tha

Yes, surely God must listen now and realize my mistake; he must realize that I repent from all my sins especially siring that boy, if I could take it all back I would. I would go back and refuse to kiss her, I would push her away like a demon I would exorcise her from my heart.

I would throw her from my head, I would let it all go, I would gladly pull her from my heart, from my body and soul that she had used only to her advantage, I now understand better why was it she wanted a son so badly, why was it so easy to kiss her, to take her in my arms and find so little resistance coming from her. She had wanted me to take her, she had wanted me to give her the gift of life that Philip could not. She wanted to be the happiest and luckiest (if there ever was such a thing –I thought wryly) in Christendom.

She wanted to be admired, celebrated and respected and she has finally gain that –through her fool "Eustace Chapuys" I whisper softly closing my eyes to sleep and I can only see that little boy's eyes, it had been like he was looking at himself through a mirror through those light blue eyes, they reminded me so much of the crystal lakes of my birth place in Annency and the thought of Annency alone clears my mind of all doubts and worries

* * *

 **1542, October 30** **th**

**Whitehall: French Embassy**

Marillac received a letter from Francois I, France's most illustrious monarch by the grace of God, the divine light of France, he was not as ill tempered as his counterpart the King of England, but provoke him and he could be just as terrible.

Francois was writing to Marillac urging him to stop the Imperial Ambassador's marriage proposal at all costs, where his instructions. Marillac was not sure how to respond to his King, for one he had to worry about pleasing a man whom he was never sure what his actions would be next, and now he also had to worry about a man who if he did not succeed with this marriage proposal it would be the end of his career as France's Ambassador in England.

There was also another factor that he had not told anyone, not even his informant, and it had constantly bothered him that he had not been able to solve the mystery of the nature of the relationship between the Imperial Ambassador and the Duchess, Princess mary.

Marillac had paid close attention to the both of them, his informant had said nothing suspicious had happened in her Mistress' quarters, she would spend more and more time with her son and her husband, but –the informant had told him- she had noticed something strange and that was that the Princess would spend an awful time in secret with her two best ladies, Susan Clarencieux and Jane Dormer.

That was nothing strange in Marillac's opinion, Mistress Clarencieux and Dormer were known to be her two most trusted ladies in waiting, and Mistress Clarencieux was her Chief Lady In Waiting –it was only natural that they spend time together alone when her husband was not around.

But, her informant had shook her head vigorously, anxious to tell her what she had discovered next, it was a secret she said, one that could benefit him and his Master and overthrow Chapuys once and for all.

Everyone knew Mary Tudor favored and Imperial Alliance, she wanted her son to have an Austrian bride, a Hapsburg Princess or one of Charles many daughters. Marillac had to stop at all costs that alliance, he had to rely on his informant to do that, Mistress Tatou one of the Duchess closest ladies in waiting, she was not as close as to the Duchess as Marillac would have wanted, but given the Princess' husband's growing friendship with the Queen of England, perhaps Marillac could use the Queen's favor –like her cousin she favored a French Alliance- to influence the young Duke so he would convince his wife that it was in the best interest of everyone a French alliance with one of the Guises girl, than with an Imperial Princess.

Marillac got to work and he went as usual like all Tuesdays to meet with his informant. The young half French, young English lady in waiting was waiting for him outside of his chambers, he retired all of his servant and let her inside his study.

The King of France had wrote to him that he was to use whatever resources were available in England to diminish the Imperial Ambassador's influence in the English Court and secure a French alliance through the betrothal of the Duke of Guise's daughter,Catherine of Guise and the Duchess' firstborn Lord Philip, this would also ensure a close alliance between Scotland and England finally putting their centuries old feud to rest and when all would be said and done, Marillac would enjoy seeing the Empire's influence being crushed and Eustace Chapuys on the first ship back to Annency.

* * *

" _Quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra? (To what length will you abuse our patience Catiline?"_ **~Cicero**

* * *

 

**(Eustace POV)**

I knew Marillac was up to something, I could feel it. Sniveling, little coward he could not hold one conversation with me without mocking me about my gout and my age. He thought I did not know that I was getting old and that I was becoming (physically for mentally there was still much my brain had to give yet) weaker. He regarded me as a cripple, everyone in the English Court did, especially the high circles of young ladies that surrounded Katherine Howard. They all favored French Alliance, and the Queen was influencing on His Majesty to listen to Marillac more about the French proposal of marriage for his son and his grandson.

I had stop Marillac's growing influence at all costs, and for that I knew I would have to face (something I dreaded) the Princess again.

I did not want to, but I could not avoid her presence any longer. Letters could be open and I was certain that there was a spy among her ladies who was reporting to Marillac on our correspondence, otherwise why would Marillac act so quickly to convince the King to rebuke the Emperor's proposal for an alliance? Nobody knew about it except the inner circles of the King and the Princess' most trusted ladies.

That narrowed it down to four people in Mary's Household, Jane Dormer, Susan Clarencieuox, Claire Brophy and Sophie Tatou.

It didn't take a genius to connect the dots. The latter Mistress Tatou was the daughter of a French merchant who descended from the low nobility and her mother had been an English commoner. She had been very loyal to the Princess since she had been placed in her household. There had been no reason to suspect of her until now.

I needed to see her now, it could not wait and so I told Fleming to retire the rest of my servants, I know that they have been very lazy since I have been often found myself retiring them, sometimes for reasons unknown to me when I felt I had to think –when I would start writing letters to the Princess that my butler Fleming would give to Susan and she in turn to the Princess- other times honestly I just did not want to see anyone, not even Fleming, but the latter was almost impossible to retire.

Fleming would follow me everywhere, insufferable man but I found myself needing his advise often, especially because he had learn well from me, he had become as sly and cunning like me and I was (obviously) proud of my pupil.

We reached the Princess rooms, it was morning, everyone was either out for a hunt, among those I knew the Duke of Bavaria included (God be praised) and the King was somewhere in his chambers being cured.

I cannot help but shiver at whoever is the poor woman or Physician taking care of His Majesty, how Kitty Howard has managed to stay chaste (that I know of) this long eludes me. How could any woman bed that man? The thought alone sounded preposterous as the King's intention to impregnate his young wife. Despite her alleged fertility, the King would not get her or any other woman for that matter with child.

He should give up already, face the facts.

The King was impotent –fact.

He thought he could produce more children, healthier and stronger than his eldest daughter whom he still considered a bastard (in spite her efforts especially in the last child that had been conceived through sin, to win her father's favor bringing him two heirs to his Crown to succeed his sickly and only son) Mary Tudor and than his Golden Prince Edward whom everyone was sure would not live past his sixteenth birthday.

I raised my hand against the door and knocked several times, I was instantly answered by no other than the youngest Lady In Waiting Sophie Tatou.

Just what I needed, Marillac's spy to report back to him –I thought and adding more to my bad luck I hear the Princess voice as she emerges from her bed chamber her majestic blue gown and tiara adorned with diamonds, pearls and other precious gemstones. I cannot help but be mesmerized by her glamour but I quickly control myself to avoid showing emotion.

"Milady" I say without her permission I move past her youngest maiden, Fleming I hear locks the door behind him.

There is much that I want to tell her now, but I cannot find the words and I just stay there staring at her in great awe.

The way she walks it gives the illusion she is gliding. She turns to Sophie and tells her to leave her for the rest of the night and to tell Susan and Jane in case they ask for her that she will not be disturbed.

Mistress Tatou obeys, I do not see her expression but I know she is glaring at me, I can feel it but I don't mind, I know where she is going and I want her to report to Marillac, because I want Charles de Marillac to think he has the upper hand, to underestimate me more. There is nothing greater that my enemies do that, consider me weak and defeated old man, it gives me strength and it makes them vulnerable for when I strike directing all my anger, hate and frustration at them.

She beckoned me to sit, I did so in a cushioned chair that was in front of the sofa she sat on. She looks up left to me, and I realize Fleming is still there, I quickly dismiss him, he does not mind but I can see him rolling up his eyes, I would remember to talk to him about his behavior next time.

I leave no time for formalities, I come on an urgent mission and I would not let pleasantries or my emotion distract me from my duty to the Empire.

So I quickly ask her when I begin to notice how her lips move "How long have you known Mistress Tatou" I am harsh I know, but I will not waste any time, she must know the kind of people she has in her midst.

Her eyebrows perk up and then they begin to narrow, she knows where I am getting at.

I continue to speak silencing her once more before she can utter a single word.  
"Madame" My tone turns deathly serious as my expression. "if you continue to have Mistress Tatou in your service it will only increase His Excellency Marillac's chances to convince your father and possibly you through his spy to opt for a French betrothal for his son and your son"

She does not say anything, but I can see the dismay by the look she gives me, yet I continue, "The Emperor your ally will go to war, maybe not now but I can assure you milady very soon against France, it is no secret King Francis supports the Emperor's enemies and that he will remain more loyal to the infidels then to his own Church"

Mary nodded, she was not the naive little girl who needed vast explanation no more.

"So do you expect me to go against my husband's wishes, if the Emperor requests me to stay on alert for spies in my Household I would gladly comply for I know there are more even that you and me might not know about. But if you pretend that I have to work behind my husband's hand"she felt a strange presence behind her, soon however it left. "then you are gravely mistaken."

"Madame consider that the French Ambassador arrived to your father before your husband, with the proposal of marriage between one of the Guises one of the oldest families in France, the Guise family they do not just want the throne of France and Scotland, understand they also want England, and if your husband is easily swayed by that weasel Marillac then you will be breaking years of English tradition bringing Scotland as an ally. Your mother knew the dangers of Scotland, why do you think she was always weary of them?"

"Excellency!" She exclaimed, surprised at the way he had spoken. It was no secret that I and Marillac had a rivalry, but what was propelling me to speak of him in that way? she was probably wondering, I had no idea myself but I could not control myself, she had to know the risks of such alliance Marillac was proposing, and that I feared her husband might be easily convinced if the Queen spoke in favor of this alliance.

I was being unprofessional but I did not care, I had to go on as she began to mouth her disgust at my apparent jealousy for Marillac.

"Jealousy?" I exclaim "It is more than jealousy I am being cautious, I am playing devil's advocate here, I have no gain in counseling you now, I am already on deep trouble if the Emperor or Mary of Hungary were to know that I am intervening. If you accept that proposal there will be nothing I can do, the Emperor will stop giving you your support. For the love of God everyone can see that you are becoming too submissive to the Duke, even the Duke of Suffolk sees that, even he knows that such alliance is dangerous and he has voiced it to me"

She tilted her head at the mention of the Duke Duke of Suffolk. He was one of the few people who had never lost faith on her or his mother nor in her she had nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for him, having survived so long in her father's Court and above all have to see great women like Katherine of Aragon fall and like Jane Seymour fall. It must have been too hard on him, and especially for his wife Catherine Willoughby who was her mother's best friend's daughter.

I had hit a nerve with that one but I had to use what I could to make her see reason, to agree with me that this was all a bad idea, and the closer she kept that half french girl in her service she could expect Marillac getting more involved in her life. I had always suspected of Mistress Tatou, always. But I never voiced my dislikes for her, even if my facial expression always made it apparent that I did not like or trust her.  
I sometimes marvel at how naive the Princess can be, how naive Mary can be. She believes in a world that will never exist, where there can only be men and women of good will and she can return England back to the papacy.

That -I add a mental smirk- is just another one of her many illusions, that I now blame myself for encouraging it.

"Mary" This is the end of all control, I call her by a first name basis attempting to reach her after her gaze is diverted from mine "The Emperor has rendered you support -"

"To make me his puppet!"

"to help you bring the faith in England and to validate your claim to the throne!"

She shakes her head, I do not get to finish my argument as she cuts me off again. "I can't go on like this pretending that you don't want me to make England the colony of some other Country. I will not let England become a puppet to the Empire, my mother Excellency respected you and I respect you-" she did not realize her mistake, I did however as she did not use past tense when she talked about the respect she still has for me. She goes on ignoring my widened eyes "but even she told me to remember that I was Queen and I should not bow before anyone else except for my husband"

Her eyes are blazing with fire as they bare unto mine.

"And you are doing that perfectly" I spat.

"You have no right!"

"I do Madame! I do because you are wrong the Emperor may not give a damn about you but I do. It has been me who begged me and who hired Brereton kill the concubine ..." -I realize that if they hear us they will arrest me for treason, but let them do it, it doesn't matter anymore, I only care about her safety, and if this is the end of my influence over her then I want her to know everything that I did and sacrificed so she could be safe from all those that wanted or wished her harm.

I never saw her as an object, I may have in the beginning, she was just another assignment but later on I came to saw her as something more than a number, something that I was obliged by the Emperor to protect, she became my personal mission and her safety, her happiness became my obsession.

"he shall be King your son and he will be put above you, before I die I know I will never see a Catholic in England sigh in relief. Your husband will continue on with your father's policies, Philip of Bavaria naive as he is, he is not a fool. He knows he risks too much to lose if he permits you to return the Country to the old ways. Madame please start thinking -Marillac is using you through Sophie, and so are the rest, you have become a puppet!"

"You are out of order if I was Queen I would never allow you-"

"If you were Queen you wouldn't live past the first day in a Country full of heretics!"

She shakes her head violently and attempts to walk past me, but I stop her. With all the pain I feel in my heart and in my leg I muster the strength to grab her and pull her close to me. I don't know what possesses me but once I realize we are only less than an inch apart from each other, I cannot resist it anymore and I kiss her.

She reminded me of what I really was, an opportunist, cold, sly all the things that I have heard before from my rivals but never from her mouth did. The way she had said them hurt me deeply but I cannot help but suppress my emotion of hate and anger for her, as her lips now moving against mine I never expected that I would abandon all reason for another.

There have been others, countless others. I could never last one day resisting the devil's temptation from the opposite sex. I took my Holy Orders because I knew I could not live with myself, maybe it was before I came to England that I realized I could never be a celibate man, that I would be nothing more than corrupt and decadent bishops of the Catholic Church that I had sworn to defend. The reason -I had lain with a woman, not just one but many before her, all women whom I had loved, whom I had cared for, whom I had been careful not to leave them pregnant.

I thought it would have been easy, to make the forbidden not forbidden I thought it would take care of my temptation -I realize now as her hands go to my neck that I was wrong. I could resist women, but not here, she was so different than the others, she was forbidden but it went past that, the taste of her lips, her tongue going inside my mouth ensuing a battle of our tongues, her scent and the way her hands felt when they were on my neck made her more irresistible.

It is impossible to know how long we kissed but when I begin to sense a warm hand underneath my double slipping inside my chemise touching my chest I regain my common sense of what we are doing and abruptly I end it before this goes out of control.

I do not realize the hurt and rejection in her eyes as I turn to leave but her hand grabs my arm and stops me pulling me closer to her.

First we refuse to speak to each other, she insults me calls me an opportunist, and now she wants me back? No -it is time she learns that I am no one's puppet to use and later to dispose.

"Madame" I begin my voice steadily as I gently pull away from her grasp. "Much as I want you by my side ..." I take a deep breath, before I say the next words that will haunt me forever. But I must do it -I must -I repeat to myself more determined now -for her and for me. "I cannot accept this"

It will make no difference, if she comes to me now and begs me to stay, I cannot. If her husband were to find us, he would report us to the King, or at least me accusing me of violating the King's jewel. She would be condemned as I would if Philip were to even suspect that his son Henry is not really his. I could not stand watching her die and knowing that I was the cause of it.

I can feel myself thinking with clarity as this last thought enters my mind, it leaves my mind open for reason and logic, they overpower me overshadowing my feelings for her, and I feel that I am making the right decision by pushing her away.

"I am sorry" I should have just said it was necessary, but something in me, the part that was still in love in her made me voice my regrets. And it becomes more evident now that I feel for her as she feels for me, but we understand that we cannot risk our positions by kissing in a place like this.

"No I am." She says solemnly dropping her gaze to the floor.

I feel then the urge return to grab her and take her then in my arms to console her. But I let that impulse pass.

She looks up to me one last time "Will you come back?" she asks.

"Anything is possible Madame" -I speak the truth, anything is possible now that me and Marillac are competing to see whose marriage proposal wins earning our respective masters and alliance with England.

She did not say nothing, and I did not stay to wait until she would speak. I left her rooms and walked back to my chambers feeling the dagger she had driven that was the cause of my heartache finally disappear. I had never felt more at peace with myself. Maybe the Princess' presence was no longer a cause for me to regret after all.


	26. Taking a leap forward

" _Cierra los ojos_ _ **(Close your eyes)  
**_ _Cura la herida_ _ **(Heal the wound)  
**_ _Y busca las cosas que te unen a mi vida_ _ **(And look for the things that unite you to me)  
**_ _Descubriras que la distancia puso tierra entre tu y yo_ _ **(You will discover that the distance set barriers between you and me)  
**_ _Lloro las noches con tu sonrisa_ _ **(I cry at night for your smile)  
**_ _Buscas tu vida en forma de alegria_ _ **(You search for joy in your life)  
**_ _El tiempo pasa_ _ **(Time passes)  
**_ _y nuestro sueno cada dia es mas real **(and our dream each time is more real)  
**_ _Silencions por escuchar_ _ **(Silence reigns)  
**_ _Canciones que me llenan_ _ **(Songs that fill me up)  
**_ _Donde iran?_ __ **(Where will they go?)**

_Las Viejas metas donde iran?_ _**(Where will our old dreams go?)  
** _ _Las ilusiones donde iran?_ _**(Where will our illusions go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Las Viejas metas donde iran?_ _**(Where will our old dreams go?)  
** _ _Las ilusiones donde iran?_ _**(Where will our illusions go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ __**(Where will they go?)**

 

_Cruza a el abismo_ _**(Cross the abyss)  
** _ _Salta sin miedo_ _**(Jump without fear)  
** _ _Sabes que no me voy a ir de tu lado_ _**(You know that I am not going anywhere)  
** _ _Tu me sigues donde vaya_ _**(You follow me where I go)  
** _ _Y quiero sentirs tus manos_ _**(And I want to feel your hands)  
** _ _Que escriben alabras duras_ _**(that write strong words)  
** _ _Echas a golpes de un alma pura_ _**(forged by a pure soul)  
** _ _El dia pasa y nuestro sueno cada dia es mas real_ _**(the days go on and our dream becomes more real)  
** _ _Verdades por pelear_ _**(Truths to fight for)  
** _ _Canciones que me llenan_ _**(Songs that fill me up)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ __**(Where will they go)**

_Las Viejas metas donde iran?_ _**(Where will our old dreams go?)  
** _ _Las ilusiones donde iran?_ _**(Where will our illusions go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Las Viejas metas donde iran?_ _**(Where will our old dreams go?)  
** _ _Las ilusiones donde iran?_ _**(Where will our illusions go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ __**(Where will they go?)**

_Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Las Viejas metas donde iran?_ _**(Where will our old dreams go?)  
** _ _Las ilusiones donde iran?_ _**(Where will our illusions go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Las Viejas metas donde iran?_ _**(Where will our old dreams go?)  
** _ _Las ilusiones donde iran?_ _**(Where will our illusions go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?_ _**(Where will they go?)  
** _ _Donde iran?"_ __**(Where will they go?)**

 

**~La Quinta Estacion –Donde Iran**

* * *

**Whitehall: French Embassy**

Marillac was behind his desk checking through all the documents and making sure everything was in order for the betrothal of Catherine de Guise and the little Lord Philip Tudor-Wittelsbach. Very clever, he thought, of the King of England to switch the boy's maternal to take priority over his paternal name Wittelsbach. It was not that hard when you were Head of Church –Marillac reflected, and the Parliament wanted to make clear that the next possible heir following Edward would seem England, therefore by an act of Parliament a month after the boy was born the boy took up the surname of Tudor Wittelsbach, and later on so did the Duke, using the same hyphenated version of his son's surname Tudor-Wittelsbach, thought he tended to use his last name Wittelsbach and when he would call himself by his given surname it would be without the hyphen added.

Then there was the succession.

Marillac knew that the succession at this time was a very delicate subject, the King had three possible heirs, male heirs, with Edward, his two grandsons the Lords Philip and Henry Tudor-Wittelsbach. He had what any men would want, three male heirs whom the last two by Parliament would get to keep the Tudor last name to continue with his Dynasty.

But as much as any man has all the strong or weak (in the case of Lord Philip) grandsons he wants, he will still yearn for another son from his own loins. The King wanted a son, he was still not sure that his last grandson would live past his infancy, though reports were that he was growing strong and enjoyed great health unlike his older brother, it was still no assurance. The King needed a second son, it was not enough with one, even if he did get another one, he would still want more. In fact, if Kitty Howard were to give him a son, he doubted the King would lift the weight from her shoulders. He would keep pressuring her and pressure her until she delivered as many children as His Majesty demanded of her.

Charles scanned through the letters of his master and the last letter he received from Paris from the Duke of Guise, Francis. They were pressuring Marillac to arrange the betrothal between the future Duke and the Duke of Guise oldest daughter.

He wrote he would have gladly have that arrangement sealed, signed and delivered by his own pen if only he did not have that crippled man Chapuys behind his back every minute. He knew the man had spies, it would be stupid to assume he did not, but just who were these spies? It made Marillac have a greater headache.

He heard the door open, it was Mistress Sophie Tatou.

Marillac invited her to take a seat just in front of his desk, he was very interested to hear what she had to report this time.

Sophie took a deep breath, she knew the Ambassador would be greatly disappointed with her this time, even she was disappointed with herself. Chapuys got one step ahead of everyone, including Charles de Marillac's.

"And you couldn't have asked your mistress girl?" Marillac demanded after Sophie had finished her tale about the surprise visit of his rival with the Duchess of Bavaria.

Sophie's face paled as Marillac kept asking her more questions.

"Did you find anything else besides that Chapuys discovered you?"

Sophie shook her head not having the willpower to say no.

Useless girl, Marillac thought. Where was efficiency when you needed it the most?

He paused, then said stealthily before the cowering girl seated in front of him, "There is something more tell me what is it?"

"If this gets out she will know it was me, only a handful know" She said. "And what will be of me if I am dismissed from her service?"

Indeed, what would be of her and who would be left to be his spy inside the Duchess' household? Marillac hated making promises to insignificant little things like her, but if he wanted the information he needed to take greater risks, it was smart politicians did after all. It was Virgil said in the Aeneid -fame favors _only_ the bold.

Decisions, decisions –mused Charles de Marillac- taking a greater leap forward with his informant.

"That so important?"

"Yes" she nodded.

"You see this letter girl?" Marillac with letter in hand raised his arm.

Sophie nodded, knitting her eyebrows not understanding what that had to do with everything? Then again, her Master was always very secretive.

"The King of France, your father's former Master wants an Anglo-French Alliance at all costs! Your Mistress' friendship with the Imperial Ambassador does not help my plans, remember that if I fall you fall down with me. Do you understand or do I have to write it down in French for you?"

Sophie shook her head. She felt like an imbecile before the great Chares de Marillac. The man had experience that went beyond his years, at a very young age he had been known to been very cunning, his career in politics would reach the maximum point if he acheived to defame Chapuys' name, and not only that but guarantee for his Country an alliance that would put the Empire out of the map as the most powerful nation in Europe. Charles V of Spain and I of the Holy Roman Empire had too much power, it was time someone stood up to him. The Franco Ottoman Alliance that Francis was negotiating was not enough, he needed England by his side to defeat Charles and gain back the territories that were stolen from him since the Empire defeated and captured him.

Marillac had never been so ashamed of being French then, but for every door closed he learned by his greatest master, another one opens, and he had found that these open doors were easier to find in England where the people's masks were very thin and very easy to see their true appearence.

England was no different than France after all with the only difference, that is, that England had a poor Court compared to France, their decorations hardly matched the greatness of France. France also had the best painters, the best musicians and the best women. As far as it went Englang was so little compared to France, and in fact so little compared to Scotland. While Scotland's glamour was nothing next to its neighboring rival, the English, Scotland more than made up for it with their ingenuity and their heavy instinct of survival. For centuries Scotland had been fighting the English to respect their autonomous state but the English wanted Scotland, it would be either one of them, there could not be two Kings and two Kingdoms in the same Island. Only one would prevail -and to prevent bloodshed Marillac thought his master's wishes would make sure that a peace agreeemnt would be reached between the two countries, through the Duchess' latest offspring.

"Good girl then" He said returning the letter back to where he had gotten it from and locking the drawer hiding his key inside his garments so one would have access to it.

"Now listen carefully the King of Scotland's wife Marie of Guise is pregnant, you already know this, if she bears a son then that son can be the next contender for the English throne, but also a possible husband for the Lady Elizabeth, however if she bears a girl then the girl can be offered to the Lord Henry Tudor-Wittelsbach or by whatever name he will chose to go when he becomes King."

Susan knitted her eyebrows (if that was even possible) even more. "But the Lord Philip will follow Edward Tudor everyone knows that _Ambassadeur!"_ She exclaimed.

Marillac cackled with laughter at the girl's naivety. "The Prince my dear is too weak to hold himself up by his two feet when he reaches the age of adulthood, IF, he reached adulthood, and the Lord Philip those who have visited him at Hever have seen the signs of poor health in that child, he is being compared to Katherine of Aragon's firstborn son, the short lived Henry Tudor Duke of Cornwall who did not live past a month after he was born. The same is being said about the future Duke, he will not live to see himself into adulthood so that only leaves Lord Henry and I doubt very much the King even if he musters all the strength from his loins will have another son at this rate."

Sophie nodded once more, it was the only thing she could do right now, nod.

What the _Ambassadeur_ was saying was treason, and if someone were to hear them they would both be sent to the tower or worse exiled from England. She could not bare the same on her father's face if he found out her daughter had been convicted of treason or worse forced into exile because of it.

"Forgive me for being blunt but the Duchess trusts the Imperial Ambassador and since yesterday that he came in to see her, to denounce me, how can I be of any use now to convince milady that an Anglo French Alliance is in her best interests?" She asked becoming frantic with the prospect that Marillac might dismiss her now and not need her anymore.

Marillac got out of his chair, and moved to Sophie's direction putting one hand on her shoulder he bend over to whisper in her ear. -"Of course if the Duchess were to hear it from more trustworthy lips than yours, perhaps another lady in waiting?" He finished a smile on his face as he returned to sit behind his desk.

Sohpie looked to meet Marillac's gaze again.

"Another Lady in waiting?" She repeated unsure where Marillac wanted to go with this.

Marillac had to press his lips hard not to laugh at the little thing in front of him, she was not the youngest of the Duchess' ladies in waiting, but she certainly was not the brightest yet Marillac had always found good use in her, she was an excellent spy and she had, if given more proper training in art of deception, the mind of a scorpion. He was fortunate (most of the time) to have her. She had fooled everyone very good, especially the Duchess with the smile of a Saint she had.

But, he reminded himself, she could not fool Chapuys, the man was too sly. He saw deception and treason everywhere, even the sweetest of smiles by Sophie would not fool him. He could see into other people's natures, into their souls and he loved making them realize that they were as ugly as him.

Marillac had every intention to beat him at his own game, but for that he realized he would need help from the inside, while Sophie's position right now was very fragile, she still had some influence over some of the young ladies, and one lady in waiting especially came into his mind that she could influence.

"How do you get along with Jane Dormer?"

"Excuse me?"

He sat back making himself comfortable and looking away from her confused look.

"Jane Dormer. She is the youngest in your group isn't she? I hear you and her create mischief, and you knew each other isn't that right when you were toddlers?"

"Yes we were but I don't understand what my friendship with Jane has anything to do with …" She stopped in midsentence as realization of what Marillac was really asking of her dawned on her. No, she was going to say, I will not betray a friendship for your Master and your interests! But then Sophie thought of her father and her mother, her poor mother she remembered, who always said to Sophie that the only way the people in this cruel world survive is by being cruel themselves.

Her father despite living on England all this years was still loyal to the French Crown, he would be very disappointed if he found out England was back into another Alliance with the Empire because she had not agreed to help Marillac, and knowing Marillac who knew her father to be her weakness, he would tell him.

Marillac saw the look of betrayal on her face.

He didn't care how many he hurt along the way as long as they lead him to his path of success forging an Alliance with England, making the King see that France and England had more in common that they realized for example exposing Chapuys for what he really was a traitor to the King of England, a double crosser opportunist.

He pretended to be the loyal friend of the Duchess all these years during the time of her hardship at the hands of Anne Boleyn, and then after Jane Seymour had died. But if he was really such a good loyal friend with her why was it he was going behind her back arranging marriages for her eldest son, in fact Marillac found it curious why was it he not only not asked for the Duchess' permission but also why he was not even heeding Charles I' advise to bring another proposal of marriage between Lord Henry and another Hapsburg Royal?

It was a real mystery, but one Marillac was not going to crack his head open for, he had more important tasks to worry about like exposing Eustace Chapuys and his plan to minimize the King's influence in Parliament. It was no secret he was conspiring with a General Council who thought the King had too much power and they were looking for ways to take that power from him. Francis too had his spies through all the ones he (Marillac) controlled. He had gone through much trouble bringing Marillac to England, he was not about to give up his ambitions for an Alliance, and neither would Marillac.

"All you have to do is talk to her, mention something simple be vain if you want to in your comments but get to Jane Dormer and I am absolutely sure the Duchess if not convinced at least she will give better thought to France's proposal"

"What about the Duke? He is her husband isn't he the one to decide too?" She inquired.

"Of course he is, but the Duke I already have him in my pockets Mademoiselle Tattou, the Queen's skull is thick but she favors France over the Empire since the Empire was not only responsible for her cousin's ill fate, the Empire has also been responsible for promoting the Duchess of Bavaria all these years and the Duchess and the Queen as we known are still bitter rivals"

He paused, his eyes bearing again into her deep green ones. "Let me worry about the Duke and the King, you worry about getting to the Duchess"

Sophie looked at him doubtfully, then her eyes went to the door and back at Marillac and she said, "I'd better go now, milady will ask of me and I don't want to give her more reason to think the Imperial Ambassador's words are right"

Marillac nodded and dismissed her, however another thought came to mind and he stopped her when she was on her way out, next to the door, "How is the Lord Henry? Does his father express interest over a marriage?"

Sophie narrowed her eyes. Of course the boy's father expressed interest, he was his son after all and so far the only healthy one they had, and the King's –it was said- most beloved of his two grandsons, why would he not expect a marriage agreement for him too.

Marillac's eyes brightened when Sophie said this, an idea suddenly came to his head, one that would surely the King would find too irresistible not to consider, and one which would put Chapuys out of business and to the next boat back to Annency once and for all.

 

* * *

 

Chapuys was thinking hard.

Last night he had almost managed to convince his lady to be more wary of that half French girl Sophie Tatou. He didn't trust the French for a reason, and that was because the French had always tried to gain control of his homeland Savoy. If he ever saw, God forbid, the day where Savoyans would give up all their free will they had enjoyed under the Empire and the Church to be annexed to France would be the day the world would end for Eustace.

Just seventeen years ago, maybe less, he could not remember much the details, except that his niece Alberta had written to him for his blessing to marry Lord Jacques Russeau. When he had read the letter he did not know if he had gone blind or if his niece Alberta had finally gone mad. Marry a French name? A Chapuys and a French? He had laughed out loud, Fleming he remembered had looked at him oddly asking him if he was alright. He said everything was fine with him, it was his damned niece who had gone mad?

There were good Savoyans where she lived, couldn't she fight the right man to marry there?

Luckily his skills of persuasion had worked.

He threatened to disinherit his niece if she married that boy Lord Russeau. His niece she was a hot blooded girl of sixteen, what did she know about blood or marriage? He knew girls younger than her married, but the last time Chapuys had seen her he had become too smitten (a terrible mistake he realized when he heard of her intentions to marry a French man) and the fact he had once been close to his sister did not help at all to ease his rage and hatred for the French when he read her second letter that with or without his blessing she would marry.

He wrote back to her, saying of the grave mistake she was making not only would he disinherit her and take out from his will, he would make sure that as long as his heart still beat she would never step one foot in Annency or in any place of Savoy again, and that her children or her children's children would not be welcome, he would make a pact with the Devil if he had to make that possible!

His niece's third letter came two weeks after, coincidently it was on January 8th a day after his gracious Master's Aunt, the Queen of England –Katherine of Aragon had left the mortal realm. His niece Alberta stated that while she would resent him for this, she would break the engagement because her heart would never bear to being away from Annency.  
She went on to say how her heart would never be mended and that one day he would know of love, she prayed that God would not take upon him his vengeance for breaking true love. He had burned the letter when she began to speak even more nonsense, he didn't care for the passionate love of two teenagers, he would not let France win even in his family.

But her words of pure love and God's vengeance did strike him. Back then there were just the words product of an infatuated heart broken teenage girl, they meant nothing, but now that he –as she prayed she never would- had known love, her words added a new perspective for him.

He was in love with that woman, no longer girl but a woman through and through. Daughter of Kings, and granddaughter of the greatest Kings that had ever walked the face of the Earth, Isabel of Castilla and Leon and Fernando of Aragon, she was destined for greatness and she had been born a Princess and raised to believe that one days he would become Queen. Now that the dream was gone, it did not make it easier for him to be near her. There were too many spies in their midst for them to meet.

He and Mary –as they had agreed they would now call themselves by their first names- agreed that they would only meet when she was away from the intrigue of Court, in his cottage where it was fairly close to Hunsdson. By now he had explained everything to Fleming, and she had explained everything to her best ladies, Jane Dormer and Susan Clarenciux. They had agreed (the Lady Susan rather reluctantly) to help their Mistress with the Ambassador.

After all plans were made he realized that they were the reason he was where he was now on his way to his cottage, as Mary was on the way to meet him.

* * *

Philip had departed from Mary's quarters not even an hour ago to tell her he would be meeting with Parliament, because of their son's great health, the King her father had offered him a seat in Parliament. The influence Philip had been gaining because of his sons and Mary of course was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

He had risen higher than any men, and he realized he was the envy of all of them. All those who were once green with envy and overtaken with jealousy for Cromwell and Cranmer's ascension had now directed their hatred at Philip. Let them, he said to himself on his way to his chambers. I have the next Kings of England and my states' in Germany's saviors. What do I care for their jealousy?

But just as Philip was about to open the door he bumped into one of Mary's ladies, Sophie Tatou.

He was rather surprised seeing her here. She was always very close to Mary.

"Mistress Tatou? What are you doing here this late?" He inquired.

Tatou looked up to meet the piercing emerald eyes of the Duke. He was handsome beyond any man, English, French or any other Sophie had ever seen. She had never told anyone but she was sure that her Mistress was having an affair with someone else, someone very close to her. Who this mystery lover was? Sophie could not know, and she had not told Marillac, after what the man had said to her –she intended to keep it a secret- she would tell him until it became her last resort for her to assure a French-Scottish Alliance with England.

She was English by birth, but in her heart she was a French patriot raised by her father who was a true French man at heart.

"I am here to make sure the room and everything is ready for when milady returns"

Philip narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? She has gone back to Hunsdson without permission? What about our son Lord Henry?" He was not realizing he had raised his voice to such level that he was practically shouting now and making Sophie go deaf.

"Lord Henry was taken to the Royal nursery by Mistress Elsa and Lady Clarencieux moments before she left. She said she was not feeling well but she said that she would be back soon from Hunsdson …" She did not get to finish her sentence as Philip stormed past her entering his chambers and slamming the door behind him.

Sophie smiled in triumph. She was stirring the boat she knew. The more jealous the Duke was the easier it would be for him to oppose any Imperial alliance his wife favored, and the easier it would be her to avoid using Jane.

Jane was one of the few whom she considered her friends, she would use her if she had to, but she didn't want to truthfully. She didn't want to ruin one of the few friendships that still survived from her childhood.

* * *

While Philip was cursing himself for not arriving earlier to convince his wife not to leave or at least if she planned to leave, to leave with him, so they could spend more time together; in a cottage not far from Hunsdson where Mary arrived and was received by Fleming. She and Chapuys lay in each other's arms later succumbing to passion in the kiss they shared.

Let her father's praetorians come to take her, they could never take him from her heart. She had given herself fully to him that night in the forest, she had never regretted even when she told herself and Susan that she did, she really was only trying to escape from the reality that she had fallen for this man. He was a commoner and she a Princess of Royal blood, but it didn't matter when her heart had been giving entirely to him.

Chapuys devoted himself heart and soul when her mouth reached to his neck.

He had been waiting a lifetime for her to touch his neck again.

Never would he have imagined falling for someone he had met when she had only been but a small and innocent little girl. Innocent –he mused as his hand traveled to her breast and with other pulling her closer to him while they rested on his bed- no longer.

She had known a man's touch, his kiss through Philip, but that had been different she told herself now. With Philip it was duty, it was obligation and she now suspected it had only been a young girl's infatuation. She was too young and naïve to know what true love and the touch of an older and more experienced man was.

If the space between her heart and her desire had once been empty it had now been filled as Chapuys began to undo her dress at the same time taking his boots and allowing her to undo his doublet.

She felt when they stripped with the others help of their clothes like this was the real world, inside Eustace's cottage, and outside was just a make believe. She never wanted this to end, she no longer felt the need to worry about the nightmare of the outside world, she had everything she needed in this little confined space.

* * *

**A/N: Evil cliffy. I should not have left it there when things were getting more interesting, but don't worry chapter 27 will be on its way this coming week as chapter 28.**

**Fact vs Fiction**

***Thanks to Lundell's dissertation about Chapuys, I also learned more about Marillac's proposal with the Duke of Orleans and Lady Mary. Of course here we have instead me juxtaposing it with Catherine de Guise her age being altered, instead of 1550s she is born during 1540 making her elligible for Lord Philip. As for future Mary Queen of Scots, yes she was born during this time, however she is not born yet, we still don't get to her historical birth date. But as Marillac in real life and here he considers based on what Francis letters have instructed him, he wants to overthrow chapuys because Chapuys had close ties with many members at court and he was conspiring as we see in Lundell's dissertation to block the King's power or diminish it. Marillac wants to stop this because Chapuys is doing this to benefit his master and Marillac wants the betrothal to benefit France and Scotland**


	27. Love is a dangerous Temptation

" _Escucha el ritmo de tu Corazon_

_Feel the Rythmn_

_From the coast of Ipanima_  
to the Island of Capri  
all the way to Kuala Lumpur  
I will follow you wherever you may be

 _From the moment, I first saw you_  
Knew my heart could not be free  
Had to hold you in my arms  
There can never be another for me

 _All I need is  
___**THE RHYTHM DIVINE**  
Lost in the music  
You're heart will be mine  
All I need is  
to look in your eyes  
Viva la musica  
Say you'll be mine

 _Can you feel the heat of passion_  
Can you taste our love's sweet wine  
Join the dance and let it happen  
Put tomorrow's cares right out of your mind  
As the music draws you closer  
And you fall under my spell  
I will catch you In my arms now  
Where the night can take us no can tell

 _All I need is  
___**THE RHYTHM DIVINE**  
Lost in the music  
You're heart will be mine  
All I need is  
the look in your eyes  
Viva la musica  
Say you'll be mine

 _Gotta have this feeling forever_  
Gotta live this moment together  
Nothing else matters  
just you and the night  
Follow on the wings of desire  
now the rhythm is taking you higher  
No one can stop us from having it all

 _You are my heart...you are my soul  
All I need is  
___**THE RHYTHM DIVINE**  
Lost in the music  
You're heart will be mine  
All I need is  
the look in your eyes  
Viva la muscia  
Say you'll be mine

 _Can you feel the rhythm?_  
Can you feel the rhythm?  
Can you feel the rhythm?  
**Burning ...Burning"**

**~Rhythm Divine by Enrique Iglesias**

* * *

 

She felt Chapuys caress her breast. She moaned as she withdrew her lips from his neck and they were moved to his shoulder where she could not help but bite back as she felt his tongue in her neck followed by a strong bite of his teeth digging deeper into her skin.

She felt how her blood going all the way down her belly aroused him to position himself now fully on top, to push her hips apart. All this scene they felt very familiar for them. In the woods they were lost in passion not one trace of love they had felt was found in their hearts, they had been blinded by the heat of passion, in here it was all different, their passion was juxtaposed by their need to be in each other, to be part of each other.

The turbulent waters that their boats had stirred was the cause for Mary to willingly open her hips this time for him, he did not need to force them open, she wanted this and she wanted to make it known for him as her dark gray orbs bore into his bluer ones that she was no longer afraid. If an army of her father's Praetorian guards were to come right now, let them take them, if this was the price to pay for their love then so be it.

Can you feel it? She heard Eustace say as he pushed himself in her. She took him in, welcomed him as her entrance widened for him, she could feel his soul inside her, his bluer eyes bearing deeper in hers telling her he did not want this night to end.

He wrapped his arms around her, nothing ever made sense when they were together, first when they were in the woods now he asked himself how was it they had found themselves in this compromising position? He could only remember when Fleming had announced her, when he had retired Fleming, and when she told Eustace why she was here because they had agreed to meet here in secret because it was the safest way possible to continue with a relation that they were still unsure of the time they spoken about it.

Now there was no doubt in his mind, as flashes of light passed through his mind, her moans, her squeals, his name being screamed to the four winds.

She was expected too though, she –he knew- was a woman no different than any other, who had her vanities and her desires she had to express her desire, women always did, they were too easy to manipulate he always found and too easy to let their emotions break free from their heart. They thought too much with their heart, seldom would he see a woman connect her heart to her brain –like –he was embarrassed to think- was the case with the concubine and Her late Majesty the true and so far the only Queen of Henry VIII, Katherine of Aragon. Both how he hated to admit it, he would never say it to a soul expect to when he died and he would be judged before God, was very much alike Anne Boleyn. Both the whore and the virtuous woman, how ironic, they had both pursued Henry for a long period of time. One when he was a Princess and she a discarded bride only to become Queen and then once more a discarded (only this time not Princess) Queen. Insert the irony here –thought Eustace. And then there was the other a whore through and through raised in the opulent and decadent Courts of France, daughter of a lowly born Ambassador (like you –his mind taunted. Silence –he mentally screamed and his mind became serene once more lost deep in his thoughts of rage, hatred of bitter old memories, and in the passion and the love he was experienced at the Princess' hands all over his back rising up and down as his thrusts deep within her made her move at the rhythm of each, and the more powerful they got, the less Chapuys could think clearly. Where was he? Oh yes … that whore Anne Boleyn … who, he flinched hissing in pain as she forced his leg closer to hers) who the only thing good he could admit she had was ambition, but that ambition ultimately destroyed her because the Lady Anne could never connect her brain to her mouth.

Deceitful creatures, he thought back then before he arrived for a second time in England. He was sure that England was a nest for the ladies to corrupt themselves, he doubted the Queen had been as virtuous as she said, for the only virtuous woman he thought to be truly pure was a nun and the Queen by far was she a nun, but when he had met her for a second time he was surprised to see the way she conducted herself with such grace and by far greater morality than the rest of her libertine ladies, especially –he thought- bloody Anne Boleyn.

The second time he had seen the Lady Mary, to think that that was the little girl who had once been fated to become Empress, the same little girl who had danced with her cousin, who had smiled at him and been so innocent, so ignorant of the world's malice. That same little girl he had seen in London had now matured and her eyes held a deep wisdom that went beyond her years. The first thing she asked of him was books and her mother, how was she, was she alright, who were her maidens? She was of inquisitive nature, nobody could deny that –from that moment he did not know what it was, but he had felt drawn to her, there was a certain allure in her eyes, unlike other ladies that if she could only be aware of what power she had in those dark gray orbs, she could drawn any man to her, make them bow before her.

He was sure that the Princess had not been just born for greatness. From her England would be returned to the Papacy to the One True Faith.

Through her she could restore England back to the right path, through her she could change the fate of many women in England who still suffered under the leash of despicable men like her father.

He never said it, but he blamed her father for all that she had suffered, even more than the whore. For England he found now was a Country full of mindless drones who if their King were to take more of their freedom and give them a Roman circus Eustace would hear the sound of million of clapping hands saying yes, give us more , give us more!

He had taken their freedom of speech, their freedom of assembly to bring forth their concerns not only to their Monarch but to their Parliament. Before Henry people were punished for this, they were warned, people were branded traitor and forced to live in shame with all their properties taken –but with him, that devil worshipper (Eustace did not think him a King, he had lost that privilege when he had decided to leave a good and obedient wife for a loud mouthed and rebellious wife. He had made deals with Heretics, he had forsaken his soul, even when his true wife had written to him worried for the safety of his soul, he had spitted in her memory by wearing bright yellow colors celebrating her death as if her death had meant his freedom for him and his whore and to mean they were blessed) there was no stopping his ambitions, Henry did not just want the Crown to control, Brandon was right when he'd said it  _he wants the whole world_ \- and with Henry the peasants had suffered more.

They followed their King because they felt they had to. For the Divine right of Kings they wanted to believe their King had the their best interests in hand but if they stopped to think and look back at all their King had done they would realize the ultimate truth that their King did not care about the, he did not care about anybody but himself.

Eustace could not think right, he got lost in that lost thought as he hissed this time bringing Mary to her senses seeing his expression shift from the pleasure he was experiencing earlier to the pain that he was now feeling when she forced his leg closer to hers.

Sorry –she wanted to say but she silenced her apologies as she brought his head closer to hers to rest at her neck, cuddling him, her fingers running through his grey curls as she softly whispered in his left ear "I can make the pain go"

He raised one eyebrow, despite the passion that he lost himself in coupled with the pain in his leg that had not yet left him, he was still aware of his surroundings, he could hear every whisper, every breath she took, he could smell her scent, feel her wavy hair on his left cheeks, anything that was part of her now he was part of him. Yet it in the state of catharsis he was in, he was still sane enough to realize the lunacy behind her words.

He was about to raise his hands to reach hers and take them from his ear and back when she pushed herself further inside. "Ah" he moaned, his lungs giving all volume they could raise for him to express what he was feeling inside for her. Not just the thrust of his sporadic movements or the feel of her fingers inside his hair, it was something that he had never thought possible, that went beyond anything reasonable or any logic he was taught in by his master the Duke of Savoy.

Mary took great interest in his hair. The first time when she had won the battle of the tongues when they had been lost on the woods next to each other, their first time, Mary had taken a great interest in running her fingers down his hair and all the way to his neck when he had brought his lips to her shoulders. She had wanted to feel and trace every hair, to memorize the feeling and bury it deep in her mind where no one would be able to erase it, but like every fairy tale that Mary dreamed of, the dream was gone.

 _ **No more Philips, no more little Philisp**_  waking her up -when she would stay at Hever- in the middle of the night to comfort him, and  _ **especially**_ no more Kitty Howards telling her how lucky she was for having a baby so beautiful and best of all no Henry for her to feel ashamed. She was able to live the dream and never wake up. This, she told herself, this is the real world and I don't want this to end. She did get to trace the lines of his hair and every fiber of them down his neck as she slid her hand down slowly tracing his broad shoulders. Now that both her hands were each on one of his shoulders, she felt it exhausting, as he began to kiss her again, to quiet their passion, so no one would hear them anymore. The sun shine though, the sun was shining on them, forming a halo on their heads as their bodies were very close to becoming one and Eustace close to releasing, her lips mildly parting from his softly said while her eyes were still closed –"I can feel you coming closer"

Panting Eustace opened his eyes. No! He mentally screamed not realizing he had spoken aloud too.

Mary dug her nails deeper into his shoulders making it near impossible for him to pull from her. "No …no we must not" he managed to say as he abruptly pulled from her landing next to her on his back giving one last and exhausting moan.

Mary did as well, pulling the covers to herself.

She could not blame him, after she recovered came back to her five senses, for not wanting to consummate their union for the second time.

" _Just what do you think you are doing?"_  She could hear Susan's voice in the back of her head as if her presence had followed her all the way to his bedroom. How stupid! She mentally roared! She was this close to ruin everything –to make history repeat itself – _like with Henry_ , her subconscious said.

Yes, she said to it, like with Henry.

Chapuys had his own motives not to want to do it. It was just more than her last offspring it was himself he was thinking of. When he had been just fourteen and after his father had died, his own mother tired of the influence and the sudden _interest_  that his uncle took upon him filed a lawsuit, he had become the center of his family's intrigue, at fourteen he had learned something about family, that blood ties made no difference when it was the glitter of money that marked a person's value.

He didn't want to see the same thing for a future son or daughter coming from his lady or any other woman of the same caliber for that matter. He didn't want to see his son or daughter the subject of family disputes, especially her family!

Better to kill the moment, kill the passion, kill his seed than see the curse of his past be repeated through his offspring.

* * *

Susan did not need a herald to wake her up as those two screams did it for her and Jane. They had been sleeping in the small guest room downstairs. The cottage was not very big and the rooms –to Susan's discomfort- were very small, barely enough for two people like her and Jane.

Around her the room did not appear as bad and suffocating as it really was. The walls were the same though, just adding more to her dislike of this entire place. They were all white and the pain she inspected was very old, Susan was very observant, she had to be being the Chief Lady In Waiting of Mary Tudor –the girl who had been through so many dangers before. Then there were also the floors, with every step she took they would cackle and the noises of her footsteps she imagined could be heard all the way to the other end of the house.

Overall the cottage was in poor conditions, not suitable for ladies like her and Jane, and especially not for a woman of high status, a Princess born and raised, destined one day (God be willing –Susan thought) like her Mistress and best friend Mary Tudor.

Together she and young Jane woke up to the muffling sounds coming from upstairs, followed by their screams as they said each others names.

Jane giggled when she heard it. She probably thought it was all some romantic adventure like Guinevere and Lancelot embarking on a quest to find a place where they could "fulfill their love away from King Arthur and his knights of the round table to escape the evil Queen of the fairies Morgan of the Fay" –Jane said giggling even more as the screams died down.

Susan got up from bed and walking to Jane's direction standing next to her as she sat up and looked at Susan with that same goofy smile she scolded her –"Watch your tongue Jane this is not a game or one of your romantic fairy tales" she further reminded as Jane's face fell "this is treason, what you are saying and what WE are doing is treason, aiding our Mistress, our Princess, our Duchess into an amorous love affair? Wake up Jane, life is not a fairy tale, people who make fairy tales are sore looser who don't understand just how complicated life is! Wake up Jane!" She repeated leaving their temporal bedroom slamming the door behind her, hoping these last few minutes before they leave since it was morning already; it would give her young partner in crime time enough to think through her what she'd said and a better insight to their situation.

* * *

_" **Abstainer** , n. A weak person who yields to the temptation of denying himself a pleasure. A total abstainer is one who abstains from everything but abstention, and especially from inactivity in the affairs of others."_

**~Ambrose Bierce in his Devil's Dictionary (1911)**

* * *

**(Mary POV)**

I was breathing hard, very hard when I felt him part from me. He landed on his back with a loud thump and taking in a deep breath after I pulled the covers from his bed to my chest, he doing the same thing too afterward, I let out a quick grunt. My legs were very sore I realized, I could not move them.

Eustace's eyes finally landed on me again as I turned to him.

"B-before it was too late" he said breathing fast. I could hear his heart beating rapidly as mine.

I agreed. It was too fast, we could not allow our bodies to express themselves freely or to succumb to passion as we did back then; we were risking too much already being here.

"What now?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows briefly lowering them down quickly as a grin appeared and he said, "Simple. Go to Hunsdson, stay there today-"

No, I would not go there. Don't ask me this, my eyes desperately pleaded with him, but he taking my chin so I could meet his eyes again gave spoke to me more serious this time.

"Madame … Mary" he said later seeing how I felt using titles. We were alone, I had told him earlier before we kissed. -There was no need for formalities here. -We were free to express ourselves however we wanted. "Be reasonable if your husband or anybody finds you arriving at your Household too late they will suspect, and we all have our spies, even he has his spies, he would surely know"

"I am tired of being reasonable. And I am tired of being everyone else's puppet. Why can't I stay just five minutes?" I offered.

He grinned. It was as if I was a school girl and he my teacher who was now scolding me.

"That is not something we should even be considering" He replied.

My heart sank. "Why not?" I demanded "We got this far? What is keeping you Eustace from giving yourself fully to your commitment? To me?"

He sighed. "Mary there is something else. I want to make sure that when I leave this world, I die with the knowledge that I made this a world safe for you to live in. I tried to protect you milady and I am proud of what you have become, but I cannot protect you any longer"

"Why do you talk of death in this way? Why this sudden change of heart?" I suddenly ask, my inquisitive nature not allowing me to let the subject rest, I narrow my eyes and as my eyes bore deeper into his soul I realize what he is really hiding from me and it makes me widen my eyes with shock.

"You are leaving!" I exclaim.

"I have asked the Emperor telling him that my health is too poor now, and he has not replied."

"Then good you can stay more" I say nonchalantly trying to hide my anger and the bitterness I feel for the request he has made –and that he did not bother to tell me!- to the Emperor.

"Is it because of me?" I ask as I saw his lips move to reply.

He stutters at first not sure what to say. It is the first time he has stuttered, but he finally manages to say it –an answer that doesn't make me feel better:

"There would be some, I daresay, to cast doubt on you for the Hapsburg betrothal. I want to be sure that when I leave this Island that the betrothal between your son and –"

"I know but I have given great thought and isn't she too old for my son, she is nearly twenty years older and then you have also have from my dear cousin another proposal to the Infanta Catherine of Guimaraes, she is one year older and I have not heard anything" I went on to say "for my son Lord Henry. What is to become of him?"

I realized then as I saw him looking away from my direction that I shouldn't have said that. The subject of Henry was a delicate one, one we did not want to touch upon because every other time we had it all ended in nasty discussion.

Sooner or later though I had told myself as his eyes shifted to mine again, we had to. He was my son after all, he was named a Tudor and he bore the last name (coming after my name) of Wittelsbach too. It would seem very unfair that my first son was considered for a marriage and my second one was not.

He nodded. Calmly he replied to me, yet I could see the hurt that he was masking behind his serene expression, in his eyes.  
"I am sure that if the Emperor were to find another bride for him that I would gladly work for another marriage arrangement between milady's youngest son and someone worthy of him"

I was not sure if I liked what I heard. When Eustace said the word worthy it all sounded so false, I was not hearing the man who made love to me speak, I was hearing the cunning and cynic side of him that always distinguished him from the other men at Court.

The other men I mused were quick of mind, many had wits, but many spoke lies they were very eloquent, how could they not, we are English after all the Country of eloquent speech, it was what made us special, or so we liked to think. Eustace had come so different from all the rest of his other predecessors. The way his mind worked was still a mystery for his enemies, but I had gotten inside of it, I had seen that there was not much more to him that met the eye. He was not hard to decipher, you had to get closer to him. She had seen that he was not that much different from any other man, young or old. He was a man desperate for touch, for needs, for emotions that were so foreign and yet he yearned for them, like love and passion.

"I see no harm then in you staying more-" I began to argue hoping that I could convince him but he held a hand up to silence me.

"Mary if not for you then at least do it for me. Look at me, you have seen my leg, it is not a pretty sight to see don't deny it Madame"

I huffed and turned away, refusing to see or hear anymore of this, but his voice was too impossible for me to ignore.

"Now you feel at peace but understand one day I am going to leave, that is something you are going to have to accept Madame"

I did not say anything.

A touch on my shoulder made me turn as he spoke softer this time, "I wonder the wisdom behind this escapade"

"Then why agree to it? Why be the master mind behind it when you were so unsure of it?"

"Because" he struggled to say, and he had to resist I felt, the urge to roll his eyes at me or scream to my face at how unreasonable I was being. If I were him I would have shouted at myself that I was being inconsiderate as well not to take into account what he had been risking being here in the first place. " **YOU**  are worth it"

"What?" Was I hearing it right?

Have I gone mad, or, has he gone mad? Has the world gone mad?

Was he …

As if reading my thoughts, he nodded, "I am speaking the truth Madame. I have given it much thought, and I would not leave these moments for anything in the world"

I did not need to ask if he will stay, I wanted to believe his answer the truth I had found was too hard for me to take, and for once I wanted to bask in the warmth of his lie before he reminded me that I had to get up and get ready to leave back to my unhappy place at Hunsdson.

I smirked and he joined later a light chuckle escaping from his lips.

"Let us worry about tomorrow later, lets live the now Madame" He declared and he pulled me closer to him giving me a light kiss, this time free from passion or burning desire, it was short lived, but we enjoyed every short second it lasted.

"I love you" I said. Out of the blue it had escaped from my mind, but it was done, I had spoken the words at last while we were both conscious.

"I know" -he replied and embracing I felt his hand rising his fingers going through my hair that covered my entire back. "I know" He repeated again, and then I realized five minutes had passed but he said nothing.

This man amazed me, he truly did. I felt I should never get to fully know him.

* * *

Mary and Eustace understood the time had come for them to leave.

Mary had dressed up quickly, she went downstairs to look for Jane and Susan, they were already there waiting for her, the driver as well outside Eustace's cottage getting impatient with the Princess and her ladies. There would be hell to pay, she knew it was on his mind, if his master discovered that he was in on it to help his wife meet with her lover (a  _lover_  Mary was glad to know that had the driver was not aware of his identity).

A last glance was shared by the two lovers as the carriage sped off. Eustace did not dare go outside and expose himself before the driver. He had to conform by watching from his window as she and her two most trusted ladies in waiting helped her to the carriage, she giving one last glance at Eustace's direction, her eyes pleading to him.

He felt an aching pain to see her go, to not be there to give the proper goodbyes, but what would he say goodbye my lover? Add more to the formalities so the driver would laugh and report back to his master, the Duke of Bavaria?

No, he was a man in love, he had accepted it, but that did not make him a man clouded by his love for Mary to act irrational. On the contrary, he had agreed to this little meeting of theirs because he'd realized he could not hide his feeling for her anymore, and that she felt the same way for him.

But all this "feeling" inside would have to end soon. He had requested to the Emperor that under the heavy strain of his duties, that he would feel more comfortable if he was back at Annency where the cool air and the peaceful atmosphere would do his health much good.

The Emperor had never answered his letters back. He doubted the Empire would have let him go that easy, but he would keep sending them.

His gout had gotten worse, he was often in excruciating pain and it would only get worse if he remained on England and leading a secret life behind his master and everyone's back with the Duchess.

He just could not stay here, there was too much he was putting at risk, not just himself, his career, his master's intention for the marriage proposals between the more suitable candidate the Portuguese Princess Catherine or the Bavaria Tudor Royal's much older Aunt; or the Imperial Alliance that the Emperor intended to make with England to defeat France since rumors (and these rumors were actually true) that Francis had allied himself to the Turks in one last attempt to defeat his long life rival Charles.

He was doing more harm than good in this Country if even one person that wasn't in their reach could suspect of their actions! The Princess' life, he hated to admit was what also worried him. Shamed and disgraced she could also face the threat of the axe, because unlike any amorous affair this was between a Princess who was married and whose place in the succession was not yet clear, and if she was denounced before her other peers that she was having illicit relations to a man much below her, and an Ambassador that would put his Master's relations with England at risk, and they would be both end up in the scaffold –since Charles would not bother to move a finger for him saying it was all Eustace's doing and he had nothing to do with it, saving his own reputation for his own interest of having England as an ally against France once more.

But … much as he wanted to turn back time –there was no going back.  
He had changed things … forever.

* * *

**A/N:** **Fact vs Fiction:**

***Eustace mentions the Infanta Catherine Guimaraes who in real life was born in 1540 as mentioned here, however she was married in real life to the Duke of Braganza becoming later Duchess of Braganza herself.**

***Little Philip Jr. other potential bride is none other than Infanta Maria Duchess of Viseu who was daughter of Manuel I of Portugal (Dani has made more interested in Portuguese history) and Eleanor of Hapsburg who was Mary Tudor's cousin, making Maria, little Philip's cousin. Quick history fact of the real Maria is that she died as the Duchess of Viseu childless and unmarried and she seemed to have resented her mother, Eleanor, for when her mother returned from France long after Francis I (her second husband) death Maria refused to see her.  
Yes I realize the huge age gap in this scenario however Maria as she is the granddaughter through her mother's side of Philip Hapsburg and Juana of Castilla a marriage to the possible future King of England opens the door for other future betrothals arranged by the Empire.**


	28. The Other Side of Me

_"Fear in me so deep_  
he gets the best of me  
In the fear I fall  
here comes face to face with me  
Here I stand oh back so no one can see  
I feel this wounds  
step down step down  
Can I break down?  
Can I break away

 _Push me away_  
Make me fall just to see another side of me  
Push me away  
You can't see what I see  
The other side of me

 _Fall back on me don't be the shrink of me_  
to save me now just come face to face with me  
Stay in place you will be the first one to see  
Me heal these wounds  
Step down, Step down  
Am I breaking down?  
Can I break away?

 _Push me away_  
Make me fall just to see another side of me  
Push me away  
You can't see what I see  
The other side of me

_Go_

_Can I break away?_

_Push me away_  
Make me fall just to see another side of me  
Push me away  
You can't see what I see  
The other side of me

 _No one can see the other side_  
He dig the other side of me  
I won  
I crawl  
Loosing everything for the devil

 _No one can see -everything on the other side of me_  
I won  
I crawl  
Loosing everything for the devil!  
Fall!

**~Trust Company, "The Other side of Me"  
**

* * *

 

Philip decided he would go to Hunsdson for answers. He was tired of Mary doing this to him and to everyone else that actually cared for her for once!

He told who was left in charge of Mary's ladies, who got to be Sophie Tattou, to get everything ready -they would depart to Hunsdson immediately.

Mary wanted to play her little games? Fine, they would! It was time he found out just what was really going on.

* * *

**(Mary POV)**

I did not regret spending more time on Hunsdson than on what we originally planned. Hunsdson was twenty miles, maybe a little more distanced than the capital. I did not mind the distance at all, the farther it was the more it meant for us to stay here, and with the weather conditions lately I doubted anyone would come here for a visit although you never know, in any case I decided to take precautions with Jane and Susan acting as my main ladies in waiting. Susan as my chief Lady In Waiting she decided to take over my household, she demanded discipline, and the moment she had come back to Hunsdson with me no one decided to question my word when it was spoken through Susan.

She had more authority in her voice, I thought being a little green with envy, than me. People tended to tremble before her voice than with me. When I spoke they would show fear, but usually they would ignore me and I had come to understand a little of the German language to know that most of what they said when they thought they were out of ear reach were insults. They hated being here and they hated me.

Susan said irritably after she dismissed all of them from our presence: "This is a fair weather we are in, I could only wish it had come a year earlier when they were on their way here"

I cannot help but chuckle.

"Well at least I made someone smile" Susan says, and I cannot help but agree, I almost spill my drink from my goblet after we had finish our evening meals.

Jane smiled sheepishly adding to Susan's comment that she made me smile earlier.

"Yes you did" I say slowly taking one last sip from my near empty goblet. "But Susan succeeded more"

Susan and I burst laughing at this making Jane cross her arms and pout stomping her feet on the ground. She could be so serious but so childish sometimes yet she and Susan were my most loyal ladies and friends -I had now come to consider them- I don't know what I would have done without them.

They were the real solid foundation under which I had relied on these last years of marriage, especially through Susan -she had been with me since I was a child. Now married and with children, she understood me better than anyone else. I felt sometimes that we could be so close that if we were not Mistress and servant, we could easily pass as sisters.

"Oh cheer up Jane" I tell her "You are still part of our ship, if this ship sinks you sink with us and if it sails -"

She cuts me off finishing the sentence for me - _again_  "I sail too, so you rise so do we and so do you fall so will we. You are our captain"

Me and Susan burst out laughing even harder, Susan almost spilling the contents of her meal as she bangs her fist on the table. She can no longer contain herself and I cannot either. Jane always says the most outrageous things, yet her sense of humor always manages to cheer us up.

But as we were laughing merrily and enjoying our evening meals, a sudden knock interrupts our merry moment.

We all look at each other.

I look at Susan, she understands and stands up walking to the door to greet our surprise visitor.

"Who is-" I can hear her stopping in mid sentence as she gasps and covers her mouth with both hands.

There walking towards the table is Philip and the rest of my ladies who are all soaking wet as my husband.

"Philip" I say very shocked to see him hear. I never thought that with this weather he would be here, and especially that he would arrive this early, why I think, it must have taken him all day!

As if Philip reads my mind, his emerald eyes suddenly acquiring a darker shade of green as they bare deeply into mind, he takes a seat next to me says to me directly -"Why did you not tell me where you were going? No wait!" he holds up a hand in the air when my lips begin to move to silence me before I could have the chance to explain myself to him, "let me guess you wanted to play Queen Mary is that it?"

"Philip I don't understand -" I try to sound convincing but I know I am failing miserably. "-your question. I told you that I was not feeling well a week ago, and I wanted to get away from Court life, away from all the glitz and the glamour, you know all I see now is French tunes, and French dresses, French hoods, and more of the old decadence. It is like I am on France, you yourself have said it. You cannot go to Greenwich, Hampton or Whitehall without smelling the strong odors of the  _Queen's_  perfume"

I know I should have made sense but my hands that were on the table were trembling as well as the rest of my body as I felt a sudden shudder pass through me.

"Then I suppose that you are not coming back to Court at least for a while am I right?" He asked me.

"No I don't think I will" I say truthfully.

"Then what do you plan to do? Stay here?" He asks with a cynical grin forming on his face.

I don't take him seriously, so I chose to ignore his cynicism and respond to him once more as if he was deaf before -"I do not think I will return"

His left eyebrow is raised. "Oh, Mary you cannot lock yourself from the rest of the world forever"

I can sure try, I want to tell him but instead I remain calm and with that same calmness I reply -"Until Their Majesties summon me I will like any loyal subject return to Court, but until then Philip I will stay here, and that is final"

He smirked, I can see the frustration on his eyes as he looks away. "Oh you are being difficult Madame"

"You should have learned that the daughter of Katherine of Aragon was going to be no less when you married me" I hint at him.

He still does not look at me, so I decide to provoke him, if he wants to be here for me he needs to prove that he can be a man and look me up in the eye. Eustace would have never done this, he would have pouted like a child and refused to look at me, he would face me, face the problem and refuse to give up an argument so easily.

That is what I love about Eustace that he posed a challenge for me, and the challenge was never easy. The man being a complete mystery to me I was more encouraged to take on the challenge.

I wanted to feel the same thrill with Philip, however Philip was not one to endure the game of cat and mouse. He was too impatient, too reckless and I hated it, I needed a better player, someone who could understand me, someone who could play the game of cat and mouse and never tire of it, someone like Eustace Chapuys.

"If you really want to know why I was here why don't you ask yourself who did you really marry? Are you going to keep be the Heretic who plays the friend, ally and the loyalist or are you going to chose your own side? You know that Cromwell is only using you, and your offspring. If the Queen gives the King a Duke of York you can say farewell to your ambitions, and you can say farewell to your playmate Cranmer"

Philip got up from his chair not able to hear more. I watched as he abruptly got out from his seat, making the chair fall, he hurriedly walked as fast as his legs carried him upstairs, seconds later I heard the door of our bedchamber being slammed shut.

Susan, Jane and all my other soaked ladies in waiting looked at me with uncertainty, their eyes were nervous and some of them like Sohpie and Susan were demanding answers from me. I did not respond right away, trying to find the right words, when I finally did I -after we were done with the formalities- I told them that we would stay in Hunsdson for the time being. They all nodded, and went to their respective rooms, including Susan and Jane.

I felt bad for them, all of them. They had followed Philip's trek all the way to Hunsdson under horrible weather conditions to see their Mistress, not because Philip commanded him or because they were scared of what they could do, but because they wished to see me. All of my ladies I had the good fortune, that they had been very loyal to me. Sometimes too the extreme.

I remember the two ladies in my service whom Katherine Howard, a name that is almost forbidden in this house. One of them I received news a month after her dismissal from my service, her parents told me that she died of utter sadness for not being close to me anymore. I could not help but cry as well when I learned that Olivia Cutter had died -because of me.

 _"It wasn't you Madame"_  -I would hear Chapuys' voice in my dreams telling me, he would give me comfort even in my dreams I would feel his broad shoulders as my head would lay to rest on one of them, his strong arms holding me as I would break in tears.

I walked upstairs, since I knew my bedchamber was now off limits thanks to Philip's little tantrums I decided I would take the guest room across our bedchamber. This guest room was much smaller but it would be enough for me, at least for now until Philip would left or his anger would.

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

"Master" I hear Fleming say. I open my eyes quickly.

"What?" I dodge my eyes away from Fleming, for the first time in weeks I have slept like a newborn. "This better be urgent Fleming" I warn him, or else I added, there would be hell to pay.

By now Fleming was used to my threats that he simply ignored my last one and he extended his hand out to my direction as I sat up. I looked at his hand in which there is a letter, I quickly take it.

"Aren't you going to examine it?" He asks curiously.

Yes I will when you are at, I mentally growled by I shake my head and say "later".

"It could be important" He says still standing next to me and looking at me attentively.

"Thanks for that Fleming I did not know you were now a soothsayer" I say sarcastically.

"No sir" he answers with a wide grin. "I am only doing my job"

"Then you would know your job is leaving ... about now" I point out sharply.

His grin disappears as well as his goofed expression and he excuses himself walking to the door. Until I do not hear the door click making sure it is really locked then I decide to open the letter and read through its contents.

My eyes widen as I finish it.

I began to cough violently, I cannot believe that she is doing this, that she is actually coming here again. I thought she would have been much smarter, but I berate myself for thinking that she could have come to her senses.

She had told him a week ago, and two weeks after they had parted from their lovemaking, that Philip had finally left Hunsdson and that since rumors were being started that war could soon rage over the major Christian nations, that her husband could be called to lead the campaign, of whoever they support the Empire or France, to ride alongside His Majesty commanding great parts of the troops.

Though I hate that man with all my soul, I cannot lie to myself and call him an incompetent when I know he has the prowess of being a good military leader, he has done a campaign before against the siege of Vienna, thirteen years ago which had earned him the Order of the Golden Fleece one of the highest honors and Orders to be bestowed.

But why did I my mind raged was she coming here now?

* * *

_"There is something that unite us. First it was passion, then it was absorption of your scent. When I smelled your hair, when your tongue invited mine into yours and when you laid your arms around me giving me comfort then I knew that you were my other half. My dark night. I was the moon, I was the stars and you were the dark heavens surrounding me making my existence possible"_

**~Black heaven by Carolina Casas (07/16/1998)**

 

* * *

 

**_1542_ , November 12th**

**Hunsdson  
**

When Mary knew that Philip would not come here until for at least one more week she decided to take her chances and travel to his cottage.

As she and Susan got to his cottage, they were greeted by Fleming who led them upstairs where an already dressed Eustace received them. Mary turned to her ladies and dismissed them in the same fashion that Eustace did with Fleming.

When they were finally alone and the door behind them, they heard a soft click confirming that it had been locked. Mary was the first one to walk up to him, careful not to make the pain in his leg more unbearable, as if it was by some unknown instinct that she was aware of his suffering, she extended her arms to him gently giving him an embrace. No matter how hard she tried to make the pain more tolerable, it still was the same. No love, affection or the longing they felt to be on each others arms could take away the pain from his accursed leg.

He hissed in pain even when they pulled away from their embrace.

"Excellency" she said becoming very worried.

They came to seat on their bed and he threw the cane, frustrated at the damn thing that only reminded him of his crippled state!

Mary felt like she had known him her entire life. When they met in secret so Cromwell could never know of their secret letters, letters that had to do with the Emperor her cousin, and her other cousin Mary of Hungary commonly known as the "Regent". Even when it had been dangerous he had always found a way to cheat Cromwell and his network of spies. Mary never understood how was it Eustace could survive, could deal with it all?

He told her that he was a survivor and that he was a man who took his job seriously, he would protect and speak for her cause because not only was it in their best interests, the Empire he would mean, but also he told her in the best interest for her and England -to see England rid from the Devil's influence and delivered to God's hand, that he said would make him even happier. Mary smiled when he'd said, she knew he meant it.

"Excellency"

"I am fine milady" he said a little too rude. But he didn't want to be seen as a cripple.

Mary sighed and she tried another approach "Eustace look at me" He looked at her, almost drawn by her voice and lost in her hypnotic stare, her piercing dark gray eyes looking into his bluer ones finally able to brake the last bits of glass that housed all his secrets, his true face. She was able to see for once the true face and through the soul of Eustace Chapuys, and with this victory at last hers she leaned forward and kissed him.

Victory was hers, yes it was, he acknowledged as he broke away from the kiss, and the pain momentarily subsiding, he pulled her closer to him in the longest embrace they ever had, before the gout returned and he flinched hissing in pain later, he ran his fingers through her loose dark hair, later kissing the back of her head as he began to get lost when his nostrils absorbed the scent of her perfume.

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

Those days that led astray my prophetic sense, into the cottage that she entered to hypnotize me with the intoxicating smell of her hair and the touch of her soft skin on her fingers as they moved to my face calling out to me, asking for me to touch her, to kiss her. I felt that all the pain in my bod could not be enough to keep me from her, and these thoughts of pure bliss assaulted my letters the morning afters when I found myself writing to her, letters that I could never find it in me to deliver for words could not express what I felt for her those nights that she spent in the cottage with me.

I lived besides her, mourning for her when I would wake up to find that she was not there. It was three nights and three days that she had lain besides me. One week after her husband had gone, I told her how dangerous it would be for the both of us if he found out, yet she said she could take it all if it was all for me. Only a naive fool would say that, and I had never taken her for a fool, naive maybe but never a fool. I urged her on the third night that she should go. -Go back to Hunsdson- I had said, but stubborn as her Tudor nature was, a trait I was sad to say she had to inherit from her equally proud and stubborn father, she refused to go.

Other persons, I began to say would begin to notice her nightly disappearances and such persons, mainly foreigners -I had hinted- would tell their Master.

I hit a nerve, she looked at me, I can see the betrayal in her eyes. I do not want to see her go. I cannot let her go, I cannot, but if I do not, then I know the consequences that awaits us both and if that were to happen I know that I would never forgive myself.

Our passionate lovemaking has won over our reason that last night as she expelled from me all last trace of common sense as she began to kiss me, and as I began to respond to the kiss I am suddenly transported to a green paradise where I can see emerging trees, majestic houses and as I let the last part of my clothing fall I feel moments after like I have reached what I called that night the epitome of pure bliss. It was the splendor, the glory, the feeling of being in a lusty green foam where I can see the midst of all doubt dissipating as I feel myself out of control once more and while my mind says no I can feel a dark voice in my chest telling me to let go and I find myself succumbing to that voice after I also hear Mary say "I love you" and I respond in two ways. First pulling her body closer to mine and the rhythm of our love and the passion that is not invisible to our desire I completely leg go of all my inhibitions.

Later when there is only sweat trickling from my forehead, as I wake up to the morning sun I see face against my right shoulder. She looks very beautiful, not immortal, not an Aphrodite. She is an authentic beauty not stained by malice, murder or moral delusions of remorse I cannot help but admire her heart's purity. I lower my head and kiss her softly on the brow whispering very softly "I love you" and then I close my eyes.

* * *

The next morning when he woke up he thought the words to be a complete work of his mind's fiction. The need to live an impossible dream -he convinced himself- was even more of a dream when Mary awoke the next morning with no memory of ever saying the words herself or even hearing Eustace's response of "I love you".

"They will be asking for you" He said. She nodded, they would be asking for her, however she did not want to go, but it was her own logic and ambition side that did the talk for her.

"I know, we can meet again"

Had Chapuys had the good common sense to say no a lot of trouble could have been spared, but it so happened that he was not that man, and she was not the woman to hear no for an answer.

"When it is safe"

"Safe?"

"Yes"

"And when is it safe for you Excellency?" Mary asked with a cool look.

All he really needed -he thought- seeing the dismissal of his answer in her darkened eyes and her cold looks. Couldn't he just have one peaceful and relaxing morning not having to wake up to more plaguing problems? No, this was something he had not been trained with the Duke of Savoy.

"Well?" Mary asked frustrated.

"Well Your Hihgness?"

"Are you going to answer me Excellency" It was amazing to hear the mood swings of her father, but another thing was leaving him.

When Chapuys did not answer, she got out of bed and went to put on clothes. She was tired of having to deal with Eustace's constant denial of their love. How hard was it to simply express his love in the simplest form with a simple phrase. "Three words" she said to him. "Only three words" but Eustace watched nothing as he watched her dress, her bare back all the while being the the only feature he was paying attention to.

After she covered all of herself with her heavy gown and she let her hair loose, she walked back to Chapuys, on the way there she had lifted his cane and told him to use it.

"Now you want to lecture me on my health?" He said pushing the cane aside. Only one day without having to deal with any nuisances he thought.

Mary rolled her eyes, why did he have to be so stubborn with this? If he did not want to say the simple three words to express his feelings then it was alright by her, but his cane? It made no sense, this was his health, this could improve or worsen his health depending on how much he used or -in this case- refused to his cane.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" She asked now more serious.

He sat up in bed. "Because I don't want to be reminded everyday of what I am now and then look at myself in the mirror and see ..."

See what?" Mary pressed.

How could he have expected her to understand this?

"Just leave the cane there"

"Excellency!" She began but she was cut off.

"Don't milady, just don't" what was it about her that was making him act like this? He had never felt so weak, so vulnerable yet she, she had unveiled through his soul, uncovered his mask and now he was without disguise without any lie to give her. She could do this to him, he thought, she was the only one who could see through his many masks of dissimulation, who would see through the man faces that he would wear at Court for her sake, his Master's sake and more importantly for his sake. Because by the end of the day Chapuys would always tell that it was him he was looking out for more, that she was still an ally, just a diplomatic means to an end for the Empire, but he knew he was only making a fool of himself still thinking this.

What Eustace thought was the best for the both of them seldom would he be right.

"Everyone lies, you are lying" She said suddenly striking a nerve and making him finally turn to see her again.

His eyebrows arched, shocked that his own words were now being used against him, he said -"Very clever" he could not help but later say to her, "you have become a good politician, you have spoken like one, I cannot imagine if I were to be pitied against you in a trial"

She snorted and let out a chuckle escape, he did not laugh but he did not need too as his small smile was more than enough to lighten the darker ambient they had brought from their early argument.

"Let us pray Eustace that never happens"

Good heavens no, he thought, and he could not help but say it aloud causing her to laugh even harder showing him her perfect white pearl teeth.

"You would lose" she said after her laughter died down.

He tilted his head and his smile became greater as he lastly said before they said their farewells "I would think it would be the other way around milady"

 


	29. Contradicted Notions

_"Oh heartless lady, daughter of the sky,_ _  
help me in this solitary hour_ __  
with your direct armed indifference  
and your cold sense of oblivion

_A time complete as an ocean,  
_ _a wound confused as a new being_ _  
encompass the stubborn root of my soul_ _biting the center of my security_

_What a heavy throbbing beats in my heart_  
like a wave made of all the waves,  
and my despairing head is raised  
in an effort of leaping and of death.

 _There is something hostile trembling in my certitude,_  
growing in the very origin of tears  
like a harsh, clawing plant  
made of linked and bitter leaves."

**~ _Tirania_  (Tyranny) from:  
Residence in Earth by Pablo Neruda**

* * *

 

**1542,**

**November 29th.**

**Hampton Court Palace**

**(Eustace POV)**

I looked from the corner of where the Princess was standing next to her husband and her primordial ladies in waiting. Marillac –I thought- that despicable French man he was there to make my life miserable.

I turned the other way before his gaze could fall on me and I would be obliged to recognize his presence.

I (almost) literally ran out of the Court room until I realize that someone had called my name. That someone, I turn, was the Lady Susan, who bows her head, after the formalities she asks if he could have a word with me.

How can I say no? She would shout at me and chase me all the way to my chambers, even if the thought amuses me, I know it wouldn't later if I were to refuse her request now.

She acts like she is the one who is at lead here, starting the conversation with her Mistress –something that does not surprise me.

"Just look at them" Lady Susan says, I do not need to ask who  **them**  are, and no, I shake my head vigorously I do not wish to look at  **them**.

But she continues oblivious or either she just ignores my facial expression as she turns to them, "They have the whole Court fooled, one would think they are their own Adam and Eve who had just given them their two new miracles" she then adds with disgust "I cannot comprehend, I do not fathom it Excellency how (not the why, that is much clear to me now) can she do this? How can someone not feel shame in their actions goes beyond me? Especially for a Princess!" she hisses in a low voice slowly shaking her head, I can see the disapproval in her eyes, " -the deception that we are all being participants, some of us I dare to say most unwillingly"

Her eyes return to focus on me awaiting my answer an examining my facial expressions of discontent carefully. What can I say to her that she does not know already? Of course I know that I am being premeditated with this, but the Princess does show no shame in her actions, people see her glowing next to Philip of Bavaria and they compare her –for Christ's sake- like she was Eve come back from the dead!  
It is absolutely ridiculous!

Does she not realize the ruins she will create if she continues with this charade?

No, my conscience tells me, that nagging little voice I have not heard since my father's death and my mother's strict instruction that transformed me into the man (sometimes I sadly have to look back with regret when I tell myself this) that I am today. She feels no shame, no remorse, she is not parted from morality yet she ignores it completely as the Duke –I finally turn to watch them in their open display of affection, it sickens me- kisses her brow.

I concur with the Lady Susan's logic. "What else can you do in a Court where deception comes naturally? The only thing left for a sane person here is to become insane." I say, my voice completely neutral

"Is that why you have survived so long Excellency, by reaching insanity like the rest of us?"

"If I have survived in this Court it has been through my wit and taking advantage of everyone I can use regardless of what little deluge I have left in morality" I say nonchalantly

The Lady Susan's eyes widen at my last words, and I cannot help but smirk, she should know by now that I will not say anything to incriminate me or her Mistress.

"You think this is all a game then?" She asks me in an accusatory tone and I suddenly become angry but she rolls back over my expression as she continues with her lecture, "We could all face the threat of the axe if she is discovered. You think you and my Mistress are the only ones to worry about losing? What about me? My children? have you given much thought about her other ladies? It would destroy the to know that their Mistress was having an amorous affair with an Imperial"

"I have given thought"

"No" she spluttered. "You have not and if you go away now it will be for the best"

"My decision to leave will be when the Emperor deems I am no longer necessary Lady Clarencieoux" -I hiss with full bitterness in my voice as I clutch my cane even tighter.

"Why do you not leave when you still can? You are only damaging her position by being here." She says nonchalantly

And thought I being to think of something to tell her she is wrong, I cannot help but stop and ponder on at her words. She is right. Staying here I am only damaging her, yet my hands could not bring themselves to to hit the ink against the paper, mainly because my deep down, something I did not dare to admit before, I cannot bear the thought of being away from her. It goes against everything I had sworn loyalty to, God the Emperor, and my mission but I cannot deny it any longer. If I leave now after all that has happened I will feel hollow inside, but yet if I don't I risk putting her and the alliance my Master wishes with the King in danger.

"No" I finally come to a decision. I will not leave, I will request my leave but only until my body cannot give more. So I say once more: "No. I will not leave my mission as chief lady in waiting you know how long it takes for another replacement to arrive"

"I cannot believe you are actually considering to ..." and she looks deeper into my eyes and I know she has realized the truth. "You are willing to risk everything for her Excellency?"

"Do I have a choice? If that is what Cesar asks me then I will obey my Master"

"But if he doesn't you will still look for another excuse won't you?"

"That is my private business" I say in a low, barely above a whisper.

* * *

_"Your tears flow and run away with hatred,_   
_hatred that your tears cry,_   
_tears that create rimes,_   
_rimes that create anger,_   
_anger that keeps coming from your eyes"_

~ **"Lagrimas de odio" (Tears of Hatred), May 2003**

* * *

 

"That is my private business" He said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. He wanted her to leave now before he said something that he would regret (if that was possible coming from him) later but Susan was not backing away, she was not yet over with her sermon.

"Is that the only thing you have to say Excellency?" She asks as he turns his head away from her effusively. Her mind screamed in frustration and she walked to where he could see her, he wasn't going to escape from her this time. He probably didn't understand what was at stake, and if he did he certainly was going a marvelous job acting as if he didn't care. "Milady's life is at stake, right now she is risen higher than any Lady in Christendom, but you know her father's mood swings, one day he could be happy and merry and the next he can be of be of the foulest mood that if you find yourself there next to him you know the phrase better start running or make yourself invisible."

Chapuys sighed with frustration. Where was this going exactly? Why couldn't the woman just say she was worried and stop all her chatter, did women have to do this, turn something very complicated like I am worried about you and give you a one hour sermon? He thought as he kept hearing her, seeing her lips move and speaking with even greater fervor than before as she began to mention another possible pregnancy.

Eustace's eyes widened as Susan mentioned it.

She noticed it and she could not help but think with a throbbing pain in her heart that she was fortunate to get through to him at last. She would berate herself later, maybe even go into confession but for now she would use whatever skills she had with lying to get to the Ambassador.

"She has failed to have her courses, they always run late but this time we have seen the change in her, it is very noticeable if one knows what to find Excellency, and besides we are women it is our job to notice" She said coyly.

As a mother she knew the signs of pregnancy, she did not need a midwife like Elsa de Goya to know. That old conversa, ex-jew might know all there is to know to delivering babies, but Susan knew more about when a woman was with child, she could almost predict without flaw what the sex of the baby would be. If men were only to trust in women, they could spare all themselves a lot of money and anguish being disappointed later with the soothsayers' failed predictions.

"Excellency" she said suddenly, feeling the presence of one pair of invasive eyes behind them, he felt it too and he did not need to know who it was.

He acted quickly, "I will take your words into consideration" He said gripping his cane tighter as he felt the insufferable presence of Marillac. The sound of his boots becoming louder it was clearer he was nearing them and if they wanted this conversation to remain secret he had to hurry her to finish as soon as she could before they were caught.

Susan did not care for Marillac at all, but His Excellency mentioning how dangerous his presence could be for him and when he mentioned the Princess, Susan could not help but flinch to think what Marillac could do if he found out about her little affair. He would no doubt use that to his master's favor, to blackmail her, urging her to push for a French betrothal between her older son and the Duke of Guise' eldest daughter Catherine de Guise.

The Lady Susan looks at him one more time. "Excellency" she bows then adding "think about what I said" she whispers and the walks away, returning to her Mistress side who was so caught up with the celebrations that she was oblivious to what was going on around her.

He could hear the footsteps of Marillac better now, he was getting closer and as he pondered on what Susan had said. If they were found out it would be the end of them, but if they continued on with their affair, considering how careful they had been so far, especially Eustace, there would be no trace that anything had ever existed between them when he would leave England -hopefully this time, he thought, forever.

Looking away from the Princess and her husband's direction he looked over to the King's direction whom next to him was the Queen, leaning forward to his ear she whispered something that made the King lightly chuckle.

The way these Royals take advantages of commoners, of their loyal subjects made his stomach turn upside down.

How we look at these people -he thought -can carry them on our shoulders and then we put them on a pedestal. We worship these people as Gods, we believed their fleshes to be sacred but deep down they are nothing but mortals, vulnerable and weak just like the rest of us ...  _like myself._

* * *

Mary had been enjoying every praise and every moment that her father looked at her approvingly, even Kitty Howard had to throw her a smile.

Let them envy me, for I hold the next savior in my hand. Like the Goddess Hera, she felt the Queen of the Gods, as a Goddess of Fertility -she was equated with the mighty Hera and while Kitty might be Venus the Goddess of love and desire her womb was empty without life and Mary was soaring with life and her spirit would soar higher than all of these women, she could hear the people outside the palace clap louder and louder as she was next to the window with Philip holding her hand. She turned to look at the Londoners gathered outside her father's gate. They were singing in praise of the Virgin Mary, they were calling out to Holy Madonna, they were calling out to Mary.

It was clear the people loved her, and they looked up to her as their next savior their messiah reborn in the flesh of a woman.

Mary did not know how to feel with that outrageous idea.

"They love you" She heard Sophie say.

Yes they love me. Their screams, their chants it is almost intoxicating. Instead of Madonna, instead of Virgin Mary I can hear them say Princess Mary, Princess Mary ... Queen Mary I.

Queen Mary the First of England, Lady of Ireland, our Majesty, Queen of England -she loved the way it sounded, it made perfect rime with her dreams.

Her mother's dream, she reminisced -would finally become a reality.

Now there was no way in denying it that she was God's rightful heir. As much as she loved her brother, he was too young and too weak. Bishop Latimer, one of her few friends at Court had said how the Prince was very weak, he said that England would benefit more if they had a strong, mature and more powerful leader like she.

She could not have said it better than Latimer. England needed stronger leadership, England needed her and she needed to fulfill her destiny the destiny her mother had put on her shoulders before she had been sent to Ludlow Castle in the Welsh Marches as the unofficial Princess of Wales. She had never been invested as at Princess of Wales, but given that her father had given Ludlow Castle and a small Court of her own to rule she and her mother had thought that this would mean for sure that she would become invested and that she would be on her path to become the next King, the first woman ruler -a woman with the heart of a King that people would soon forget about her gender. They would all worship her -she said to herself as she imagined herself, now her gaze centered on where her father was next to his "whore" Kitty. The throne would soon have a new person sitting on it, she knew it was not meant to be her yet she could not help but imagine herself on it, the crown of her father and of many who had gone before him being put on her head by a true bishop, Bishop Latimer.

If only ... she thought, she would have been named Princess of Wales, it would have been impossible for her father to discard her or her mother.

* * *

Philip with dread did not dare to think what was going on with the rest of the world. He knew that in a few days he could go to battle, that the King had every intention to go to war with France. Philip wondered why was it, if the King had every intention to go to war with France and ally himself with the Empire (something Philip wasn't too keen on doing since the Empire had been his family's enemy, the oppressors behind his Country's constant struggle to free itself from the Hapsburgs. The whole lot of them he hated them with a passion. The thought of joining them in battle was unbearable. He had to since his father in law would surely command of Philip given his expertise and medals of honor awarded for fending off the Turks from Vienna, but he personally would never forgive himself for fighting side by side with the Emperor); why was it that he was keeping Marillac, the French Ambassador? For all means and purposes the man should have been kicked out of England ages ago if it was the King's intention to make an enemy out of France again!

But then, hearing the Queen's laughter and the look she gave to the King when this looked at Marillac's direction (who was currently in deep conversation, Philip noted by the look both men shared, with the Imperial Ambassador) he understood that as long as the Queen remained by his side, the King would never let the Ambassador go.

He wanted to please his new pearl in every way, and so far his pearl he figured as she leaned to his ear and whispered (he could only guess what she was whispering), that Philip realized that no matter how empty her womb may be, as long as the King got his heirs through him and Mary he would forever be content next to the youth -that had made him feel youthful again- of Kitty Howard.

Kitty Howard had done what no other woman before her, not even her cousin the infamous and vivacious Anne Boleyn had done, to make the King feel not only young and passionate again, but make him smile, make him see that there was more to this world than just blood and gore that he had brought unto his Country.

Mary hated Kitty because she made her father merry, because she had changed his mood swings. But Philip saw that her hatred was not well justified, on the contrary it was ridiculous to say the least, Mary only hated her because Mary had not only been displaced by Anne Boleyn's cousin, but she had been displaced by a woman (he had to admit) far more graceful and charitable than what Mary could ever hope to be.

He hoped that one day his wife would understand, that she would look back at her mistakes and finally admit that she was wrong to judge Kitty Howard and all the people, including him -he hated to think, that she still called Heretics and in her heart she would find it in her to forgive and forget all that had been done to her, for it did her no good to live in anger. Be what her father was, be what may that had been done to her or how God had wronged her through his faithful servants, she as everyone else were only pieces in a bigger game of destiny. Mary understood that very well yet she refused to acknowledge that she was as insignificant as the rest of her future subjects, in her mind she still thought that one day she could become Queen, the Queen of Hearts and not the Queen of Hearts as she imagined sometimes in her nightmares.

Her nightmares would be plagued with images of her sitting on a pedestal with a crown of thorns on her head, her brow being kissed by none other than the concubine Anne Boleyn and hearing Kitty laughing behind her as she would say to Mary "now you lie in the cold ground below us Mary, how does that feel Lady Mary" and she would go on to laugh, to taunt Mary with her children mentioning how Philip's offspring would never be King, that it would be her bastard sitting on the throne of England begetting more bastards like the grandfather whom had seeded her and her siblings.

No! She would say to these dreams. Her son, her Henry would never be King. He could not, she hoped she really hoped that the prospect of Philip being King would be closer to everyone's minds than Henry's but as she saw around her, around her father how with a roaring laughter he almost mentioned the name of Henry, her younger son, she knew here and there that Henry would soon not only win her grandfather's heart, he would also win his step grandmother's heart -even if she was repulsive to him now, sooner or later Kitty's charm would bewitching as it had bewitched Philip and her older son.

"To our son" She heard Philip say, she turned to him pushing all her past thoughts away. Following the old council of her youngest two ladies in waiting, Jane and Sophie, she smiled at Philip and let the past go, for once not thinking about her past troubles.

"For King Philip" Mary said raising her goblet that had not bee touched since a servant boy had come earlier to pour ale on it.

As her goblet was raised so was his, and they gave a quick toast with a low voice for their son, however Mary noted that when Philip called for a toast he did not mean his oldest son at all, but Henry. In that boy he had seen determination, he'd heard the strong heartbeat when he'd cradled the baby in his arms, that could only be compared to that of a strong Monarch like his grandfather. Whenever his grandfather was close the boy would reach up his arms for his grandfather, he craved his approval, his attention and the older man whose heart was still warm after a night spent with his young Venus would with strong effort reach for his son, the nurses attentive would rush next to the King as his servants, careful that the King would not drop the baby and injure him, or worse, that the King would injured himself losing balance.

The King was in fact very proud of his grandson.

* * *

Because of the people's loud chattering his and Marillac's conversation went unnoticed.

"It is something spectacular this talk of war" Marillac said.

Chapuys felt like he was being thrown to a Roman Circus with Marillac being the tiger in chains the others -his logic and his common sense- holding him back before he launched himself at him and tared him to pieces.

Chapuys was always prepared with a sword in his hand that were his words and a common sense that could easily rival if not crush Marillac's pride.

Chapuys remained motionless however, this was not the right time to unleash his sword at the crouching tiger, he would wait for Marillac's common sense and logic side to leave him, when that would happen he would unveil his sword and swing through Marillac's throat silencing the French Ambassador once and for all.

"A beginning you said months earlier is the time that every balance is set, it is the time we should all be considered, however I think it is fair to say there is never a beginning in this Court, everything here is always the end. Look people here in the English are very wise, they know that learning is difficult yet they are very easy to be misguided by their enemies and-" Marillac stopped looking at Chapuys who had began to laugh.

"You find something funny Excellency?"

Chapuys pressed both his lips together forming a very thin red line. He was finding it very hard not to laugh at Marillac's poor argument for it did not carry any wisdom in it. He was criticizing English logic and wisdom! He could have barked more in laughter at the young Ambassador. If he only knew, been here as much as he was, he would have understood there was no real logic in the English logic.

Men use their brains to make their own logic independent of what the universe's real logic is. Men wanted to create their own world, their own rules and their own reality. They did not want to accept that the real logic that ruled the universe was God's ultimate law and that was that life was never fair, good or bad person life would always stab you in the back but these people -Eustace mused- they wanted to be like the God of lightning, agents of their own fates and their King especially he had the audacity to name himself God's vicar. With the authority of God in his hands he was master and commander of the universe, he could create his own reality and impose it on his subjects, and his subjects eager to get some of his glory would bow their heads without question executing his orders. He could have expected this from heathens, from Sultans but never from a Christian Monarch, even a Heretic~

Chapuys finally stopped his laughter as he saw some Courtiers divert from their merry chatter to turn their attention to the two bickering Ambassadors.

He cleared up his throat and took one step closer clutching his cane even tighter.

"No Excellency" he responded to Marillac's earlier question. "I do not find anything funny" he said truthfully.

Marillac looked at him with an incredulous expression making Chapuys mentally roar with laughter. It was a good thing that he knew how to control his emotions otherwise he would have burst out laughing at Marillac's expression which he found priceless. How could a man as trained as Marillac not see through the sarcasm?

"You see Excellency reality is as it is. You might disguise it with your own truth, you might lie to yourself, you might pretend to be wise, you might pretend these men you see before are wise but you just did a grave mistake in calling them wise, and you did not notice your mistake in your last sentence"

"Oh really what is that?"

"That you called them easily guided by their enemies. I do not see wisdom in the minds that are easy to be controlled. Such minds, malleable they are prove no amusement even for the devil"

"Excellency has become a philosopher. Be careful with that, Socrates died by his own hand and his own venom" Marillac reminds Chapuys.

As Chapuys sees that Marillac begins to turn away, no doubt he is ready to leave -Eustace addresses him one last time reminding him that he is still an amateur in this game of politics and intrigue. -"Excellency Socrates died after many years of overcoming all perils, you should know that Socrates knew since the beginning when he defied authority, the consequences of this action. Yet Socrates was willing to sacrifice his life unable to live in a society that wanted to disguise reality with their own distorted vision"

"You consider yourself Socrates then?"

"No Excellency unlike Socrates I am not a fool to die for an ideal, love and loyalty mean nothing for me unless there is gain for my master ..." Eustace pauses looking over Marillac's shoulder briefly to see the Princess laughing with her husband. He looks back at Marillac and he adds "or for me"

Marillac pressed his very thin (if it was possible they could be even thinner) lips together unleashing every emotion that he had restrained himself from showing the Ambassador so far through his eyes looking at Eustace with pure hatred.

Eustace merely gave him a cynic smile as he lastly said -"Good day Excellency" And he left for his bedroom feeling the throbbing pain of his gout strike him again as he walked.

* * *

**(Mary POV)**

He always took it on the chin for a while -Eustace Chapuys. He wanted to prove he was man enough to face everything, Mary had no doubt that he was, but deep within he knew that he could not be all powerful, that deep within him lied there lied a dragon that was becoming more of a threat than his impulse to protect the ones he loved.

When I was sixteen I remembered when I first met him. As a girl who had just had her world broken, my father left my mother and my mother, my poor mother who now lies on the cold ground six feet under me, in a burial so unfit for a Queen, a burial I could never attend, I remember back then as with my mother's death he was there after Madge Shelton gave me the news that she died saying she loved me and that I was her ever most precious gift for she considered me a miracle.

I knew there were all lies. Everything that I had heard from him were lies -but there were lies that comforted me when I needed them the most because the truth was too ugly for me to face. To this day I will admit I will never hear the truth, and I will never admit no fault of mine that it was my immature feelings of vengeance and resentment over Elizabeth when she was born and when she became my father's favorite, shortly after Kitty came to the throne next to His Majesty that allowed me to open my heart too late to recognize the Ambassador's prowess, or our mutual feeling that had lain hidden for so long.

I think, it was me that mostly repressed these feelings. I wanted to believe that he was my friend, my ally and that he was only doing this service, allowing for our friendship to flourish because it was his now I see, and perhaps I saw earlier while on the woods that I was wrong. He saw more than a Princess that day and I saw more than an Ambassador. I saw not a politician or a business man, or a diplomat but a man  ** _in love_. ** I know how ridiculous and God -I blaspheme mentally now- I curse myself for it, for saying and admitting this ugly truths but he said that reality was only hard when we never come to accept what God gives us, and now I know he is right.

I wanted to understand love, but I also dread for its entrance, I was fearful that if it entered into my life I would perish with it like so many women who had let love enter their lives, those who had fallen for my father for example, they were all bad example of love being uncaring and destructive. I did not want to suffer that same fate.

Alas, fate had different plans for me. My love did not become as unrequited as I had thought, though it could have come through other means and not the way it suddenly came, I was no longer ashamed of it, what my heart felt, what  _we_  felt for each other

_"A process that is stopped can never be fully understood until we fully follow, experience is our best teacher as is doubt. When we decide to reach a top of the mountain Princess how can we know it is a mountain, how can we know that our journey led to where we wanted? When you are on top you can never see the mountain, therefore how prove it is a mountain? Only when you are down when you test the mountain, tests its ridges, feel the rocks and feel your blood run through your hands, only through hardship can we know that our destination has finally been reached"_

It is not enough to reach the top without having known or experiencing the trials and tribulations that come before greatness, and even greatness she understood from his lesson spoken not too long ago before I'd met Philip, there comes greater responsibilities, hardships and tasks one must do as King or Queen to ensure that his or her rule is a responsible and just one.

That, by the way, was another factor in the logic of greatness.

It was not an easy burden to bear, the burden of the crown and always being in the shadow of destiny -of which Jane and Sophie liked to boast too much, but among which boast was always carried in hush whispers behind my back -that I only knew because Susan was always there to spy on the two best friends-, that when I was finally placed on the line of succession they would be the next in line as well to becoming the greatest ladies in England as I as Queen they would have the honor of becoming my more important ladies. Though I laugh at this last part I cannot help but find some truth in this argument. With my rise those who had supported me would rise as well, and I knew that Jane was ambitious, but Jane's ambition was often beaten by her loyalty of me, and Sophie though, she was much more different than Jane. In contrast to Jane, Sophie was sly and extremely cunning -and I had begun to have my suspicions of her since Eustace had said that she was Marillac's spy. I still doubted this, but there were times that I saw that malicious glint in her eyes that I could not help but wonder if Eustace's words were true or not.

When the music had finally stopped, it was like the ambient around us had suddenly turned mellow and nobody looked at me anymore nor at the Queen. Instead they all returned to their chambers, night had come and it was very late.

I, Philip and the rest of my ladies walked me to my chambers. I knew Philip would dismiss them. I did not mind this, since I really did wish to be alone this time -and when he finally did I began to take of my necklace, my pearl earrings and the diadem of black gemstone that had earlier adorned my loose hair. When every jewels was finally taken I realized that there was one jewel that when I put down on the wooden surface of the furniture facing the mirror that I had not taken my fingers of it yet. It was the pendant that I had worn on my dress on the day of my wedding, the same pendant that I had taken to Hunsdson and that  _he_  had torn from me on the day we made love on the woods.  _Angel of Wales_  -I said aloud bringing Philip's attention who was already under the covers.

"What?"

I turned to him my fingers parting from the pendant. "Nothing" I said and I come next to him.

"Mary when are we going to be honest with each other?"

When you begin to recant your heretic faith and come to your senses that nothing good can come from your friendship with those Heretics!

"I am tired Philip, go to sleep"

"Mary"

"Please Philip I am very tired" I say to him more forcefully this time.

He does not lay close to me this time, I can feel him next to me but he is very close to the corner of the bed that I was sure if he moved he could fall but I didn't say anything. I don't want to -the less we say to each other the better it is for him and especially for me.

"Good night" he says, I find no emotion in his voice, no desire, no longing, I am tempted to turn around to see if I can find some emotion in his eyes, but I don't -I know I will find nothing there. So instead I pretended not to hear his other goodbyes by shutting my eyes tightly to give the impression that I was already under a profound sleep, and it worked as by the time I opened back my eyes he was already fast asleep.

I remained awake. After he fell asleep I had remained glaze eye-ed. Only one part of my brain was conscious -and it was the part that made me remind Eustace. Less than two weeks since we had seen each other and it was a nightmare being here without him I finally admitted. I could not sleep, eat or drink right without him. But,oh joy! I had discovered that I could be with child.

Just the thought of having another life sleeping inside me set me nervous. What would  _ **he**_ think when he knows this?

I know he will not forgive me, more importantly I know  _ **he**_  will not forgive himself this time. We had learned to ignore the problem of Henry, we had no longer discussed it on our nights together, it had become nothing but a memory. To the world he was Philip's son and my father's favorite, I would hear him call Henry his prodigal son, sighing with eyes having that longing gaze when he would look behind Henry's shoulder at my little brother Edward -poor Edward I reflected. He was being pitted against my youngest son, and my Henry he was growing to be too much like my father and I was sure that nothing could come out of it. I prayed every night that Philip would live to adulthood or at least if God forbid, he dies young that he has already married and begotten a son, not a daughter but a son so he will not leave the throne to _his brother_  Henry.

And worst of all is that I have not lain with Philip and whenever I wait for the right moment to do so, I can find myself not able to do it, I fall asleep or make myself pretend that I am asleep so he will fall asleep too and leave me be for the night.

I fell prey to anger as my hand travels up and I find my fingers touch my lips. I have made him suffer I now realize, I have pretended to enjoy it because I told myself that it was all his fault, that he should have never said those things to me, but the more I think about it the more I had come to realize that he did not do it out of anger. He was a man who lived and would die for politics, but he was also a man I realize who would risk everything for friendship. The battle over Erasmus' pension after the old Archbishop of Canterbury -Warham- had died was proof enough that he had put his position in the line for his friend, and even the late Erasmus, Chapuys would tell me, had referred to him as his most dear friend.  
In that evidence I put my mind at ease and with that I finally close my eyes realizing that no matter what happens, tomorrow would be one day more, and one day more that where I would see him. One day more ...


	30. Things we never thought we could become

" _But understanding doesn't imply love. Maybe the more you understand someone, the more that someone disgusts you"_

**~ From Octday by Tie Ning**

* * *

**1542, November 29th**

**Hampton Court Palace**

Philip let his arms fall on her breast where she had later removed them earlier. The touch of his soft fingers on top of her nightgown … Mary felt it empty.

Her husband was always the last to heard the good news, especially when she was pregnant. When she had first been with child, it had been her maids who'd been the first ones to know, then came the Queen, back then the noble Anne of Cleaves a woman Mary had come to love as much as a sister seeing how sweet and pure of spirit she was; finally it had been Philip and her father who knew. Hard to say if it had been because she had subconsciously wanted to surprise him, or because it was that she still had felt timid of his intimate presence in her bed.

Their bed –not his, not hers but theirs, Mary did not share these feelings with Philip. In the last year of their marriage he was behaving as if he owned everything she had been given by her father and Cromwell. He loved to brag, he loved to show off their offspring, especially Henry, how he loved that boy as if he was the messiah he would parade him –whenever he had the chance- around the Court, the other people saw him as if he was their messiah as well.

Her father especially saw little Henry and praised him as if he was the son he wished he could have, his Duke of York, she could hear him say deep within his mind whenever he saw her Henry, would be just like him.

Mary had to work hard not to laugh at her poor father, after all these years the King was still sure in all his arrogance that he could beget a child from that sterile yet alluring mare, Kitty Howard.

The way that wife of his behaved herself with her children, you would think she had been the mother and Mary –the surrogate womb whom had carried Kitty's children for nine months.

Kitty wanted to take full custody of her children, and she was scared that if she asked for it her father would grant it. He granted everything to her. She only had to snap her fingers once or let out another tantrum for him to give in.

 _If I had not given in_  –Mary thought going back to their first time when she and Philip had laid together after their wedding to consummate their sacred union.

At last came the day when she came to face to face with a locked door, locked from the inside and she could not help but thank that locked door for its rebuff that she had immediately fled to Hunsdson where without permission she stayed for an entire month without any news of her husband or her father, best of all there was no Kitty Howard there or her brainless favorite Joan Bulmer to bother her.

It was during that month that Eustace Chapuys had come, as a mercenary to recollect his bounty, convince her that an Imperial betrothal was the best for her eldest son, the bounty as any bounty hunter he thought would come easy in front of a women he thought was already defeated by her lack of maternal instinct. She proved to be a challenge when she denied him that she felt nothing for what was being done to her, she tried to behave herself in the same stoic manner he had seen her many times before Philip of Bavaria had arrived into THEIR lives and disrupted the  _friendship_  between again.

Really, she thought, resenting that time when she had accused him of being an opportunist, though the word never escaped from her lips the way she had implied he had always been working for the good of Rome, for the good his Master forgetting their friendship had really stung him, and from those words came afterward their passion –unleashed and untainted by any strings of morality or doubt they grazed their bodies against one another's, her entrance her womanhood pleading for his manhood to claim as his, he had not hesitated and when he had entered her, it had been too late to turn back as he had released all of himself in her and afterwards they had become one in body and soul he laid asleep, his head on top of her chest to feel her heartbeat making sure that his mind and her heart were joined.

It sounded make believe, and more like a fairy tale but it was all true, and as Mary thought of all of her life to this culminating point where she realized she did not want Philip arm on her breast, she pulled away from his soft arms and got to the near end of the bed where finally away from Philip's reach she allowed herself to rest.

 _Philip her husband_ , she thought before going asleep, what weird sense of humor fate must have to put Philip by her side.

No, not fate –another voice in her head said- It was you remember?

 _Yes it_ was –she said, admitting what she had been afraid to admit in her short years of marriage to Philip.

But really though, could the voices inside her head, both her conscience and that other dark voice that spoke for God (her subconscious) –could they really blame her for what she had done to  _betray_ and before that marry Philip? It was he, or rather the friends who now dominated their lives, who had condemned her to live out her miserable existence as an exile in this Heretic Kingdom where the true church men who belonged to her faith were being persecuted for being truth and loyal to their church father, the Pope and to God, where she was also forced to chose between this fate or to follow a suffocating, almost cruel regime under her father (though Mary blamed this most on Cromwell since he had been the main Architect for her father's separation from Rome), where she would always be his subject and his Heretic's councilors' slave. Mary had no choice but to follow the latter, it had been Chapuys though who had convinced her she would do the Country much good if she was alive,  _"because"_ he said  _"if not then you would surely be put to death by His Majesty"_

Mary had not believed it at first, but seeing the intensity of his eyes when he spoke this and his defeated voice, she became convinced there was no other way, and besides he reassured later –the pope would give her a dispensation to erase this grievous offense against her mother when she had decided to sign that bloody Oath which said that she was the product of an incestuous affair.

" _As long as I live I will never forgive myself"_  She had said and the Ambassador's withdrawn eyes from her, had refused to acknowledge her sadness, yet in his brow she had noticed that it was drenched with cold sweat. Back then she did not give it much importance, but now as the memory resurfaced she realized that there had been more than his words that kept her alive. It had been that expression of worry that had made her signed, more than her fear and more then her worries, it had been his own _worries_  for her that propelled her to sign and therefore condemn her soul.

She had never said thank you, she always thought that signing the Oath had been her curse and her downfall from grace, but now six years later she realized that if she had never signed the Oath she would never have felt his

But for two years cloistered from the outside world, banned from her charity work, and with only her ladies and (recently) Eustace to keep her company, she felt he had reached a point in her life in where she had come to a decision that no more. Two years that had been nothing than bearing children and receiving praise for the male children she brought the Kingdom instead for her intellect, something she yearned to be recognized from, she decided that she would no longer bow to the rules of Philip, or to the rules of other of the Heretics he bowed to now.

With Eustace Chapuys, her old friend, her old colleague, her old platonic love now turned lover. With him by her side Mary had known what it meant to be loved, wanted and needed. Even if it had only been for four brief nights, those nights for her had lasted an entire lifetime.

It was a sweet sin the double life she and Eustace were leading behind their masters' back, something that –they agreed- must never be suspected and least of all found out, for it would lead to both their dooms.

She could not give up on her life for Eustace now. If she abandoned him, she would feel her life wither away, and –she thought turning to the other side to stare directly at sleeping form- she could not easily pretend that there had been nothing, for their affair was not a simple affair, Mary was convinced that what they have is love, a love so powerful that not Philip nor anyone could take away from her.

Finally her eyelids became heavier as an image of  _ **him**_  came to her head. Mary found herself quickly succumbing to exhaustion. When she finally fell asleep his name had escaped from her dry lips.

"Eustace" it was whispered softly making Philip stir as though what he heard was part of a horrible nightmare.

* * *

For two days Mary and Philip rarely spoke.

On those two days she had ordered Susan to bring Dr. Butts, unbeknownst to Philip, to examine her and to confirm whether or not she was with child.

To her luck, the Doctor said that she was not with child, that it was just another fall back she was experiencing, very natural he said, given how quickly she had fallen pregnant and stressed she had been lately. She had dismissed the Doctor and asked him not to say anything to her husband, she did not want him to be disappointed –the Doctor agreed having known Mary from a long time.

Since she was not pregnant, Mary felt a strange sense of fulfillment, that she had avoided spending nine more months of torture having to carry another cuckold to Philip Wittelsbach's cradle. Even if that would have been child could have half of Tudor blood in him or her, it –she knew- would be just another one of her lies, and she didn't in all truth wanted to carry with another lie and cheat on Philip by having to carry Eustace Chapuys' cuckoo.

Her lips twitched into a smile as she remembered these past two days' events.

They would arrive at Court where she would laugh and grace him with her presence at Court letting his arm fall around her waist giving the appearance that they were a happy couple, deeply in love with each other. Everyone around them could not help but sigh and others could not help but look at them feeling green with envy because they wished to have what they have –love.

The whole world knew of her great marriage to Philip; there was no secret about that.

Nobody talked about it, but they knew, everyone did, including that brainless harlot Kitty Howard, that their marriage was on the rocks. Surely though, her father the great Henry VIII, would be pleased as soon as he heard that she would be bearing him another child, another boy –she thought displeased bringing a hand to her lifeless stomach.

 _Pregnant yet again … Oh the joy of it! -_ Mary thought sarcastically hoping she would not be pregnant anytime soon..

It was all an elaborate lie that they created quite well.

On their high thrones, her father's Consort at least could see past the King's eldest bastard daughter' trained smile. It both annoyed and puzzled the Queen how someone like Mary could deny the Duke's love and affection. It did not make any sense.

But with the cold Duchess and bastard Royal, Kitty mused, hardly everything made sense.

It was not fair for the Duke, Kitty thought; considering he had given up his Country, his friends, his family everything for her. He had raised her higher than any man possibly could have. They were parents to two of the most beautiful children Kitty had ever seen and yet she acted so shallow as if she cared for nothing else but power and her never ending ambition to become Queen.

 _Pity,_  Kitty felt for the Duke of Bavaria, having to live  _each day_  next to a woman whose heart was so hard that if Kitty bet her life on it was to drive a lance right through it could break.

Chapuys felt after the celebrations honoring more of the Princess' fertility had ended, that life had never been greater for him and for Mary as they had agreed on another encounter on his cottage. She had asked permission from her father  _and_  of Philip (she added on her letter), to stay in Hunsdson for a few days. Her father had said yes, and Philip had no choice but to say yes as well. Their son Henry would be there, but she already gave instructions in another letter to Elsa, to take care for the remainder of her time she would spend in Chapuys' cottage.

* * *

**Chapuys' Cottage  
(Near Hunsdson)**

With its dour and gray skies; Chapuys never felt life at England be more dull, but it was the moment that she came through the entrance door of his cottage (the day after she had arrived in Hunsdson) that once Fleming had announced her presence to him the skies cleared up at the sound of her voice.

He realized then that she had become his sunlight, his light out of the darkness, and that he could not saturate her from his heart, as much as it was difficult to admit, he wanted her to be in his company and vice verse.

After they exchanged pleasentries, he said to her in the best neutral way possible to avoid the prying eyes from her two best maids, Susan and Jane, that he had important things relating to her cousin, his Master that had to do with her son's betrothal, of course his lady agreed and regrained herself from being too obvious simply saying "I will be content to discuss the matter in private Excellency" and she followed him later upstairs where after he closed the door they embraced each other and quickly he kissed her softly on her lips, after they parted they walked to the bed where his leg aching in pain soon soothed itself as she throwed his belt and began ripping off the rest of his clothing that she threw to the floor. He did the same, he could not stop himself. He began to loosen the strings of her back dress, finally taking it down he pulled it down around her hisps, then after came the rest and now were fully naked.

They were under the silken sheets covering themselves, yet as she came to be on top of him she shuddered as one convulsion came when he felt his thrusts deepen, she brought her hands to his shoulders squeezing harder.

He stopped himself before it would be too much for her -or for him. Who knew how long they would have, he did not want one night to be started too fast, he wanted to save the best part for last, and besides, he wanted to admire her eyes and watch her instead.

 

* * *

" _A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking,_ _Hmān_ _, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing. The_ _séroni_ _could say it better than I say it now. Not better than I could say it in a poem. What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure, as the_ _crah_ _is the last part of a poem. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then–that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it._ _"_

 

**~Hyoi (character) from CS Lewis in his work "Out of the Silent Planet"**

* * *

**Hunsdson State**

Philip did not know why the confusion of when he went to Hunsdson to visit his wife. It was the year of our lord 1542, only three more weeks he thought, and it would be Christmas, he could not understand why everyone was greeting him with those solemn faces, by the looks of it you would think someone had died!

He snickered as he saw his own German servants scurry to the kitchen as they saw him entering the parlor.

He expected his wife to be back from their bedchamber at any moment. He supposed taking care of little Henry had kept her up all night;; he could only imagine how handful the little tot could be for her. She wasn't exactly patient where he was concerned with Henry.

He allowed himself to sit down in one of the biggest couches in the parlor, it wasn't exactly comfortable but it had the best pillows to match the bright blue colors of its cushioned seats, and it was spacious which was what Philip liked the most in furniture, more than comfort and cushioned seats was that it had to be spacious otherwise Philip would not have it in his domains. Mary was the entire opposite, the only reason why the pillows covered the entire couch was because she said she needed comfort, and she said without something soft to sit on she would not sit on it.

His wife, he mused, she was truly one of a kind, but he could not recall one time he could be annoyed with her for it was that feisty spirit of her that he fell in love with in the first place.

He could not explain it, but it was not her beauty, it was not the attraction, physically he meant, that pulled him toward her, it was something else –an inner beauty that she possessed that he had seen –so far- no other woman in his travels, including this Kingdom have.

It had been two days now since he had last seen his wife, just two days ago early in the morning she said she would leave for Hunsdson, under an excuse -unbeknowst to him that it was an excuse- that she needed some time alone and that she was not feeling good. He had asked if she was alright? She said that everything was fine, she only needed some time in the Country, he and her father had agreed he saw no harm on it, but later thinking of his wife all alone in Husdson and having to deal with theri child's cries, even if his nurses were there with him, Philip knew how Mary could easily lose her patience over the baby's first cries. The more he thought about it at Hampton, Philip came to the conclusion that he would ask for some time off from Court as well, the King granted him, it was no problem considering that he talked to the Queen previously whom guaranteed that she would talk to the King convincing him to grant Philip his request.

He expected to arrive with a warm welcome or any type of welcome from his wife, but Mary was nowhere to be seen.

In fact today when he arrived, he was surprised that it was a quiet morning. There were the cries from Henry, but those had been calmed down minutes ago by his nurse Elsa, someone he knew Mary trusted more than any other nursemaid he preferably would have picked instead of Elsa. But he respected Mary's decision, when it came to the care of their children, she was (except when their education was discussed) seldom wrong.

Philip let himself be lost in the memory when they first met, back when there were no suspicions of deceit or betrayal, back when he did not have to worry about her pretending to be asleep when he would try to kiss her to make her feel better, or take away the pain, back when  _she had still loved him._

* * *

Setting aside all her fears, she stood up and regarded her naked body in the mirror. Surely Eustace would be pleased he would wake up to see her firm body, well developed breasts, thin waist and flat belly with non curving hips. Men his age preferred the large curving of hips in the female body, but not Eustace, the Imperial Ambassador was more attracted to her words and her eyes than anything else.

The very thought that any minute now he would wake up and she would feel his knowing gaze creeping on her nudity made her melt with need and her fingers crept up greedily to her lips where they had been claimed too many times by his.

A place like the inside of her mouth, Philip regarded as forbidden to anybody else that was not your spouse. Oh Philip was a man of God alright, he believed in the Holy Gospels, though he was not as fanatical and devout worshiper like Cranmer or the only man of the cloth in this Country she still trusted –Bishop Gardiner. Still, he believed in the sanctity of marriage. He believed that no other man should covet what was his.

HIS –that is how Philip viewed her –as HIS, not as something he yearned, wanted or needed but something that was of HIS dominion. Philip mourned when she was not near only because he felt he had to make it up to her –because of the two sons she had brought him. Two sons that were now farther from her, unable to raise them properly in her faith, they were being raised by Heretics and of course Philip approved for he and Cranmer were the main architects behind their education.

She parted her fingers from her lips and walked back to the bed, where she laid next to him.

It was Eustace the Imperial Ambassador Eustace Chapuys who had shown her how it felt to be needed, wanted … loved. It was his touch, his incomparable touch, which she had invited from the strong and rough surface of his fingers to claim her, almost a year ago.

His talent, such as they were had not been appreciated before by any other woman. Unbeknownst to Mary who was staring at him with her dark gray orbs memorizing every line, every little wrinkle in his face; Eustace was already wide awake hours ago. The pain in his leg prevented him from sleeping soundly, and seeing earlier how her face completely smiling back at him, he got this powerful surge in him to stay awake all night for her, to check on her.

But when she woke up he shut his eyes, because he did not want to disturb whatever it was she could be thinking at the time she woke up and prayed in Latin, giving thanks to the Lord for another bright sunshiny day next to the man she loved.

It hurt him to hear her say the words. Nobody could know what she was thinking when she spoke this. The Princess was a good actress, very good in fact. She could fool everyone, from the more experienced politician to the hardened of men to believe her words when in reality she would be thinking all the opposite.

It was only natural, she was educated as a Princess, and Princesses, even in England were trained to be politicians, especially one as Mary Tudor in her precarious situation, with her ambitions to be Queen and restore the Country back to its faith, she had to bring herself to act accordingly, never show, fear, or any negative emotion that her father might be displeased about, or any other member that His Majesty valued more than his own firstborn.

But it had been his admiration for her, the way his letter changed when he mentioned her to his Master or to Mary of Hungary, the infamous Regent, that Philip of Bavaria, that impetuous boy out of suspicion and jealousy had been aroused by his overfamiliarity with her –for they spoke freely with each other of many things, mainly of political nature in public, but that still bothered the Duke, and he had forbidden him to step one foot in Hunsdson, afraid that his suspicions could be true, never fully realizing just how far he and Mary had gone. It had been his lady's hunger to know that sweet fulfillment once more that had driven her into his arms night after night that she spent in his cottage.

He finally let his eyes open and was greeted with her beautiful sight.

Just as she expected, Eustace marveled at the beautiful texture of her body when she locked eyes with him.

He didn't give her time to speak as his lips collided with her, hungrily, her body alive in anticipation of the joys she could further share with Eustace Chapuys before he would be driven back to his senses and remind her that she had leave to Hunsdson before any suspicions could be arisen for her long absence.

* * *

**Hunsdson**

"I have watched you talking to the younger girl … what is her name?" Philip asked.

"Jane and yes we exchanged a few pleasantries before my Mistress and the others left" Sophie said guardedly as Philip's goblet was filled by his -as expected his favorites- German servants. She rarely discussed her dealings with Jane or with any other of her Mistress' ladies or Mary herself for that matter with the Duke.

"Is there something wrong with it Your Grace?" She asked quite innocently, playing her part very well –Philip mused, as he saw her head bowing once more.

"Nothing Sophie, I was thinking though why is my wife not here to greet her loving husband?" Philip asked with a mocking tone feigning sadness.

Indeed, why was Mary not here to greet the handsome Duke? Sophie pondered, the Duke was a very handsome Duke, many ladies at Court she had seen them whining over with green envy seeing her Mistress so close to him, asking why was it the Duke had picked a sour, and nun-like bastard to be his wife when they were sure he could have any other lady, more worthy of him?

"Tell me Mistress Tattou you have no answered my question"

Sophie's eyes locked with his, she felt the unnerving presence of his soul looking right into her, reading every thought she was hiding, it was invasive yet she liked it –it was the first time she felt the center of another man's attention.

"M-The Duchess Your Grace" she started carefully "she said she would be back before nightfall …" she paused watching the Duke look away, his disinterested look focusing on his goblet once more.

He grimaced at the prospect of dismissing her from his wife's ladies. His wife was not that close to Sophie anymore, and so if he retired her (permanently) from her service she would not mind. But the Duke's suspicions bearing over with his familiarity of his wife and the Imperial Ambassador troubled him more than Sophie's possible ties with the French.

Then she knew, this she had to get his attention once more –"she said she would be back before nightfall yesterday"

The Duke's handsome face registered shock. He shot to his feet, sending his empty goblet clattering to the floor. "She has been away God knows where for more than one day now?" he hissed.

"I don't know Your Grace, she did not say where she was going, she only said it was important" She answered truthfully. "I kept my eyes and ears open. But she is far too smart, and I would not be doing my duty if I questioned her too much."

"When exactly, time please give if you want to be in our service longer, did she leave?" The Duke of Bavaria asked and when he received no answer from the trembling girl, he narrowed his attack. "Our baby is upstairs in the left wing next to our bedchamber and she has not bothered since she came to even look at him! What could be so important that she would willingly give up his welfare?"

Sophie tried to explain to Mary's husband that she wasn't really to blame, that Mary had something important. What? Philip kept asking her, Sophie could not say. "She said she had something important that was the only thing I got from her Your Grace, she said it was something important, tis the truth!" She pleaded.

Philip closed his hands forming two powerful fist as one collided into the table making Sophie jump in fright. She had never seen him act so violently.

But his jealousy had been aroused once more as he thought of the Imperial Ambassador, that bastard's face, he could remember how he had laughed when he had looked at his wife last time when he saw him at Court. He remembered the brief glances they shared.

How could he have been so blind, not to see then?

Without a word he left. Sophie was not tempted to follow him hearing his foul mood escape from his lips as he yelled to the four winds to register all of his wife's belongings, anything they could find he said that would be of use

* * *

"I watched you last night" He said.

"And what did you find Excellency?" She asked slipping further under the covers so they could cover all of her nakedness, yet it was of no use as he slipped under them too to see all of her.

"Eustace" she gasped as the shudders of his teeth releasing themselves on her breasts convulsed her, she promised herself that, this ecstasy, this pleasurable sensation that took hold of her once more, would be over soon. However, it was not and Eustace made it clear that he could not wait any longer as he sunk his teeth further into her breasts.

* * *

**Hunsdson**

"Sir we have searched –" The servant did not get time to finish as Philip stormed into his bedchamber that he shared with his wife. It was all a mess now, papers everywhere, there were her clothing everything on the floor.

The servants had said they had found nothing just letters, and more of her wardrobe. That was it –they pleaded. Philip did not care anything about their tries he wanted results, however he did not want them, being the merciful man he was, to be victims of his anger on the discoveries, he feared might be true, find in those letters of his wife that had been sent by Chapuys to her.

"Leave" he ordered and they all did so leaving the Duke alone to drown in his rage.

He opened all of  _ **her**_  private correspondence with the  _Ambassador_.

"Convince me" He whispered softly as his mind retorted -to his pleas where he wished for his suspicions to be wrong- that this was a grave mistake,  _opening these letters could be the end of you_  –it said, Phillip smirked, he did not care anymore. He could care less if this was truth or not, he just had to know.

And with a maddening laugh he began to read letter after letter until he found himself on the floor on his knees, his head finally collided with the letter that his hands still held.

The servants outside heard a loud scream coming from their Master's bedroom.

Sophie shrunk in her seat, she could only imagine what it was that Philip had found.

In his bedroom Philip began to trash everything that was still standing, from the flower vase that was his wife's favorite to the portraits of them that he had commissioned for their entire family. He let everything fall and with his feet he broke the glass that covered the small gold clock gift that she had given him for his birthday. He broke it until there was nothing left, but it was not enough for the wounded husband who felt as if a great hole had been punched in his chest.

"Ah" he flinched as he remembered the words that had been inscribed in that gift.  _With all humble hearts I am yours truly …_  he grabbed the broken gift and smashed into the window breaking the glass window as well.

He didn't mind the pain as his hand was stained by the blood that had been running (caused by the broken glass of the smashed gift he had just grabbed) it did not compare to what he felt inside.

It will be come to me, he raged, I will be the one who will impugn her for what she has done! –he roared.

He glared back at the letter that had been dropped on the floor, he hissed in pain as he felt the glass in his hand being dug further as his fist was squeezed tighter, and he bend over grasping the letter firmly.

He swallowed hard and his brain tried to register, reading aloud the contents of the letter all that had happened behind his back and was still happening by the looks of it since his wife had not returned since yesterday!

This was not happening … it could not … he could not –why? He finally asked now the slave of, as he let his madness take control of him, of his emotions.

That ... that woman! if she could be referred to as a woman -a snake, a temptress, she certainly had behaved like one when she first came into his bed, had now come into that Savoyan, Imperial dog's bed!

How could she do this? He roared, what had driven her to this madness?

He felt his brain shut down as he remembered all the times they would lock glances with each other, when she would say of the Imperial Alliance, recalling -she said to him- how the Imperial Ambassador had always been her loyal friend.

 _Loyal friend -_ he snorted cackling madly letting his laughter be heard by all the servants in Hunsdson. Loyal friend indeed!

That Savoyan dog had not only perverted her, used her against him, he had made a fool out of him!

He laughed harder as he recalled every kiss he gave her, every time she would say no because she would say she was too tired. She had not risked her health, her stress for him, but she had risked it for that low born Ambassador~

God, he could not avert his eyes from the letter he was holding! He wanted to burn it, to swallow it where the juices in his belly would devour it and leave no trace of her betrayal behind, yet he could not escape the truth of it, and his curiosity made him read over and over again the last sentence of her letter where she promised she would visit his cottage. This letter had been from probably last week, or the during the time she had been at Court, two days before she left for Hunsdson and from here to his Cottage.

She had abused of his love of her, she had spat and vomited her vows of chastity and love for him for that man!

He did not need to fall out!

Would you really risk your sanity for a woman? For a broad, even if that broad is your wife? He heard his uncle's voice whisper in his ear. The man was dead, buried six feet under like his old man, why should he listen to the ghosts of his past? Yet he could not take their voices from his head as he heard now his father's voice telling him to go where his backstabing  _wife_ , his Princess, his love was making love with that man!

He heard his father laugh harder as tears that threatened to come finally came down and ran down to his neck.

He squeezed the letter in his hand and walking to their chimney, he torned the letter to pieces and threw it to the flame where he watched it burn along with all the memories of his father's mocking laughters seconds earlier.

It was all an illusion ...

* * *

"You believe we can last longer like this?" The young woman's brain was racing ahead of Eustace's. "There is a fear on me and it is now shown, that there could be a beginning in this you know? If we were to part now, what would be of us? Would I be the owner of your heart Eustace?"

He smirked "There might be more than your heart for you to give me, remember we have given each other more than our hearts"

"Which is precisely we cannot let go now Eustace" Mary reminded him. "Why should we effectively give up our union? If I were to …" she began but was silenced by Eustace's two fingers that landed on her mouth.

"Stop. Don't say it" he warned. "Promise me you won't mention it again"

"I promise –"

"I don't want just a promise milady … I want your word you will not even think of it … promise me on your Immortal soul"

"Oh, I promise Excellency … I promise on my Immortal soul Eustace" She lied

* * *

**Hunsdson**

Philip slammed the door of his bedchamber. He ordered his servants to clean it and to burn her letters, all of them he emphasized and then he went downstairs, ordered everyone to get everything ready by nightfall "… and do not bother for dinner, the Duchess will not be hungry" and he put on his hat it carried the golden coin with the Wittelsbach emblem on the front.

They had laughed at him, abused of his hospitality and that dog had dared to touch flesh that was so sacred -it made his stomach turn upside down, and he looked long and harder at the State he was leaving behind as he opened the entrance door. This was his wife's house, not his but her house, but soon it would be his and he would make her know that this was her house, he was her husband and everything she owned was not hers anymore but theirs.

He stepped outside where his carriage was waiting for him. He ordered the driver to speed up, drive as if his life depended on it, the driver did his best with the directions Philip had given him to arrive to their destination before the sun set.

* * *

It was turning late and Mary –anticipating nightfall- had to stand up to light some of the candles.

In the flickering light of the candles he turned to her direction. His lady's face glimmered as the light of the candles illuminated her perfectly gray orbs.

There was a fear in him, though no showing through his face, but in his eyes it was showing, that one day maybe not today, and certainly not tomorrow, but soon enough his mind whispered, he would have to leave her beauty behind, and the memory of her he would have to bury it. She was a Princess, beautiful and graceful while he was a commoner, yes his mother was part of the old nobility of Savoy but his father was a commoner and that made Eustace also a commoner, nothing compared to the very old and noble lineage that ran through his Princess' veins.

She still had her earrings of precious stones on her, and as she saw Eustace's face focusing directly at her eyes, she found herself reveling in the power she wielded over Eustace with the beauty of her eyes and body. She could see into his eyes in the way no one else could. She was headily aware how his gaze turned hungry as she advanced slowly to his side of the bed, the obvious pleasure -after she knelt in front of him- in his eyes when they landed on her erect nipples, that they were now avidly devouring them.

He moved quickly toward her, throwing aside all doubt and ripping off from his reason, he swung his arms at her with muted cry and brought her to him pulling her down. She was cherishing it in both hands when Eustace's strong arms folded around her, crushing her against him as he pressed his urgent lips go her forehead and then sought her mouth. It was the millionth time he had done this, he had lost count after this one as he got lost in the ecstasy of her mouth and her hips where his fingers had slid to.

His hands were now everywhere, caressing her until she thought she would die of the pleasure. She tried to give a like-for-like in return, teasing and exciting him with her fingers and tongue until he could bear it no more and swiftly he rolled her and they were now on opposite sides, she below him. Their hands now joined, gripping others tightly as he prepared to release himself inside her.

She screamed and then moaned as she was flooded with desire by every thrust he gave her. It came to its climax as he released all of him inside her.

Afterward, as they noted that nightfall had come and the only light present in the room was the flickering light of the candles she had lit earlier, she let go of his hands as he rested, in the same position when they had first  _known each other_ , his head on her chest.

She had never believed that such ecstasy she had experienced before could be possible to repeat itself, yet he had done it, twice now she had come to know Eustace Chapuys in a way that she never thought it to be possible. He had taught her more about her body, about herself that any other. When she was a little girl the subject of sex and pleasure were clear taboos especially for a Princess who was to grow pious and obedient –as her old tutor in the book he had dedicated for her- Vives, had advised. With her mother it was the same story, it was always about politics, duty and religion. Then came the time after Anne Boleyn when she had seen that sex was more tied to politics than anything else on the Tudor Court –she had been scared then to admit that she might fall prey of one of the many vultures that surrounded that Court, or worse that she could possess some of her father's unruly hot blood and be slave to desire. However her fears had been unjustified because she always had a protector with her, guiding her –her savior, and her only friend and now her lover –she told herself- Eustace Chapuys. He had made it known to her what were her body's true needs, what it really yearned for.

It was less than an hour before they heard the heavy knocking outside their chamber.

 _Jane_  –Mary cursed under her breath,  _leave_  –she thought.

The knocking continued and Mary looked at Chapuys, who shared her annoying look.

She looked directly into his eyes again as she had diverted hers at the angry knocking just seconds ago. "Do I have to shout it at her?" She muttered. Chapuys his head still lying on her chest chuckled. "Milady" he murmured "I think that I have never been more annoyed with that girl than I am now" he declared his finger, surprisingly softer this time as they were gentle, traced her neck. His dynamic behavior, that he could posses, even after his passion had been spent, made her felt less annoyed with her younger maid's paranoid behavior.

"I cannot deny it" she grinned "You are magnificent" she said huskily stretching out her hand and smoothing it slowly along the length of his bare back. "But can you imagine us here while Jane is out there screaming to herself –all afraid that I might get caught by the time I return to Hunsdson?"

In the dawn she would have to go since he did not trust her to go right now when it was too late, and there were a lot of dangers lurking out in these parts of the forest.

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, they had gotten to know each other better. With each stroke of his fingers on her neck she moaned in pleasure as one finger was reaching to her lower lip, the pleasurable moment was suddenly spoiled from the constant knocking of her maid outside their chamber.

She pouted –"Goodness sake Jane can't you see I am busy!" She yelled at her maid who was surely wetting herself right now only hearing her Mistress and best friend screaming with pleasure.

"Come back tomorrow" Mary said finally allowing humor to return to her voice. "When I am less …" she looked at the chuckling Ambassador "busy!"

"Now where were we Eustace?" She asked in a seductive manner, her fingers tracing other parts of his body. "Tell me more about Annency, you didn't finish your tale of what your childhood was like there"

"It was fair" he merely said "until I was pitted against my uncles and my mother for custody"

Mary's expression turned serious. So much pain –she thought- that he does not let anyone in, it is no wonder why I always see him so opposed to the idea of family, of children. I can only imagine how painful it must be for him to reveal all of this to her.

"So much pain" she said tracing her fingers back to his back.

"That is in the past milady" He said softly his fingers landing on her cheek stroking it softly. "It is all in the past"

"Still I cannot help but feel for your Excellency … you have been more than just my friend all these years … you have been an ally, strong, courageous, you have been my true heart's keeper" She declared.

"No" Eustace shook his head "I do not think that you should raise me that high"

"But I should! You have meant for me than anyone else in his Kingdom, in my life I have never met someone so noble, so dedicated and I swear Eustace that I l-" She did not get to finish her sentence as she and Eustace jumped in surprise to see Philip storming in the to their room after giving a loud bang to the door, nearly breaking it.

God had led them to this point in their lives, when they had been so close to confess their loves, but the Devil she was sure, had brought Philip to their doorstep like the Angel of death killing this passionate moment, and subsequently killing her dreams of a life they might have shared together for deep inside her, she still held the dream that she could divorce Philip.

She had known, in the moment they had joined as one, that their coming together meant more than just lust, it had to be –she whispered to herself mentally as she watched Philip advance to their bed, where Eustace, she felt his hand grasp hers

Together, with her hand joined with his, they could take on Philip, they had to otherwise if he left her alone, she didn't know how she would overcome the guilt she felt as he saw his accusatory glance penetrate her former lusty gray orbs.


	31. Embracing virtue and forgetting desire

" _Live in virtue, no desire_

_In the grave, an angel's choir  
You look to heaven and wonder why  
No one can see them in the sky_ _!_   


_Just as the clouds have gone too sleep_   
_Angels can be seen in heaven's keep_   
_Alone in fear they question why_

_Goddamn not an angel when I die!_

_Angel's live, they never die  
Apart from us, behind the sky  
They're faded souls who've turned to ice  
So ashen white in paradise_ _!_  
Goddamn not an angel when I die!  
Goddamn not an angel when I die!

_Just as the clouds have gone to sleep_   
_Angels can be seen in heaven's keep_   
_Alone in fear they question why_

_Goddamn not an angel when I die!_

_Just as the clouds have gone to sleep  
Angels can be seen in heaven's keep  
Alone in fear they question why_ _!_  
Goddamn not an angel when I die!  
Goddamn not an angel when I die!

_Goddamn not an angel when I die!_

_Goddamn not an angel when I die_ _!  
_

_Heaven must be hell in the sky_ _!"_

**~Engel (Angel) by Rammstein (English Version)**

* * *

Philip took one step forward. He wanted to grab that son of a whore and beat him; more than anything he wanted to denounce him to the King, to accuse him of raping his wife! But seeing the look on his wife that she exchanged with him, made him stop in his tracks as they both share a smile before Mary turned to look back at Philip.

She loved him? He thought outraged. He had betrayed their love to be with him!

No, he could not accept him. Not now, and not in a million years!

"Philip, you must listen to me" Mary said suddenly as he saw him look away, denial written all over him as he refused to watch her hand still grasped by her lover.

"Please listen to me we did not mean for this to happen"

Philip spun around and cried furiously "Liar! You were with him!" No longer in control of his emotions he ran to her side, and took her clutching her arm forcing her to stand up.

She nearly stumbled but quickly she regained her balance as she watched Philip's angry stare "Look at me!" She did as she told him to. She did not expect him to forgive her after this, he had ever right to be angry, but why did he have to feel the need to humiliate her in front of her lover?

Why? She kept asking.

Eustace who watched the whole scene, forgetting his nakedness jumped from the bed and walked to Philip shouting in the same outrage he felt when he watched his man, this pitiful and poor Duke grab his beloved and dig her nails in her arms making her bleed as a consequence of it.

"Leave her alone!"

"Oh so now the intellectual speak!" Said Philip amused and with a hint of sarcasm evident in his voice as he began to laugh madly.

Here was the dog defending his poor ugly bitch!

His wife! She had accepted being nothing but a commoner's whore! It was more hurtful for him than it was for her as she felt blood escaping from her arm as he dug his nails deeper in her flesh, to see her act like this. To see her naked giving herself in body and soul to this man, to a commoner –his mind seethed- a man no better than his lower servants!

"Philip you must listen to me!" Mary said desperately, as she attempted to free herself from his grasp. "Please" she became more frantic as she flinched in pain when Philip threw her aside, letting her go but making her fall on her knees.

Philip turned his head with its short dark hair towards the man who had pushed him after he pushed him.

There was rage in Eustace's eyes now burning deeply as his hatred consumed him. It was one thing to watch Philip insult the Princess, but to push his wife and manhandle her, that was too much for Eustace!

You and I now, thought Philip as his gaze switched from his fearful wife to the man who had claimed her for himself.

"I should have known that nothing good would have come from her friendship with you!" He shouted. "I was made a fool" He later said watching back his wife as she tried to get up, her knees hurt greatly and then there was also the pain in her thigh and legs from her lovemaking with Eustace that she struggled with.

This woman, thought Philip, this beautiful woman who had strangely since the moment he had laid eyes on her, she had captured his heart and his body, and he feared now more than ever that his suspicions were true. Not that he had lain with Chapuys, but that she could have fallen madly in love with him in this time they retained a secret relationship behind his back.

His heart plummeted like a sinking stone as he watched her, now fully up, look back at him coldly. She looked so beautiful, even in the darkness she was magnificent.

With that her glorious dark cloud of hair rippling over her shoulders. He could not believe that she could look at him with that hatred! What had he ever done to her to make him hate him so?

Her arm injury?

He snorted surprising Mary as she began to back away making an effort to run away from the bedroom, but Philip was faster and he ran to the front of the door blocking it from Mary. This is where Philip outnumbered his treacherous wife and her commoner lover two to one. Though Mary was feisty and she possessed the spirit of a fighter, much like her mother and her infamous Grandmother, the butcher Isabel of Castilla, she was no match for a man like Philip who was a skilled warrior and came from a long line of proud warriors, and then Eustace of course –he inwardly smirked- the man was afflicted with gout and he could not predict –and even if he did- that he would run to the entrance of the room blocking him and his lover from their exit.

Eustace now saw himself for what he really was, sick and crippled. He could have stopped this man from reaching the entrance, he should have foreseen that he would try to hurt Mary, but damn it all he was too slow and too old to stop him. Philip was two or three years older than many, younger and faster than Chapuys. If he could be the man he was twenty years ago he could have stopped Philip before he made a move to grab Mary, but alas time took no prisoners.

Philip began to speak again as Mary attempted to get past by him again but it only ended badly. Philip merely pushed her, luckily Eustace who was behind her caught her before she could fall on the floor.

Seeing Eustace arms around her waist made Philip seethe with hatred at the man. He never thought himself capable of hating someone as much as he did now!

"I trusted you … I loved you, I believed you! God I believed you! Your father blessed our wedding and he confirmed our union when we were wedded at the greatest Church" He cried once more "Have you forgotten that?"

"How could I forget it?" Mary asked quietly, shrinking inwardly at the memory when her father said that their union would bring two nations together and that he hoped, his hope proving right for once, that she would bring the House of Tudor many grandsons to bear his proud name. Archbishop Cranmer himself with Bishop Latimer had blessed them after the marriage ceremony. Latimer assured her that she would be as fertile as her mother, and unlike her mother's poor blessing because of all the heretics in England, Mary's womb would be fruitful and she would bear Philip and her father many sons, potential heirs to the throne of England after her and Edward.

She wondered what would all those who blessed her and wished her for a fruitful marriage to Philip, would have to say if they found out that their beloved second Lord (Henry Tudor-Wittelsbach) came from the man they liked to called "crippled". She would pay to see their shock if they ever found about that.

"Others Philip like me have a different opinion. Like Bishop Latimer for example! He hates the way you are driving our children away from God to indulge on your Heresies!" She said carefully, as she felt Eustace's warmth calm her down. "Philip our marriage was broken since you decided to take over the education of my children!"

He snorted in laughter. How dare she say MY children when she renounced her right of being a mother when she bedded this man?

"Laugh all you like! But our marriage is at an end" She declared now feeling braver.

"My father will hear of this Philip."

Philip's angry brows furrowed; he was inwardly quailing at the prospect of Latimer or his father in law hectoring him, attempting to convince him to let Mary divorce him. The thought alone was preposterous! He could believe that of Latimer, that lousy Bishop was always intruding in his marriage, counseling Mary and constantly turning her against him. But of Henry VIII to annul their marriage AFTER two sons he and Mary brought to the Tudor cradle? No, he would never do that, Philip was conceived.

He looked deeper into his wife's dark gray orbs, he knew then she was convinced that their marriage was a sham, that they had in fact no reason to continue their marriage.

"Can't you see Mary?" He asked in a cynic tone "Your father will NEVER let you go. You have brought him two grandsons, and our last son has proved your fertility. You will be displayed as a whore if you divorce me. Everyone will know of your affair, and your dear lover, tell her Excellency, she deserved to know what will happen to you. He will be hanged Mary or worse he will be executed, and mark my words I will make you see his execution and I will make you toast on it with me as I force you to see his head roll!" He bellowed.

"No!" She screamed freeing herself from Chapuys' arms. "You touch him I will kill you!"

"Kill me and they will cut your head for it!" He hissed.

"Can't you heed for once the advice of your wife?"

"What wife? I see only a whore in front of me!" He shot back.

That was too much for Eustace he knew he had to act.

He, in spite of the gout in his leg, positioned himself in front of Philip, blocking the Princess from his sight afraid that, angry as the Duke was now, he could do something to his lady.

"She is not a whore! Don't confuse her with the Queen whose made you her lapdog!"

"Why you insolent bastard!" Philip said. "How dare you speak to me like that? I could have you executed Excellency for this …"

He got interrupted by Chapuys' chuckling. This boy, this insolent young Duke thought he could have him executed? Him –who was nothing but a poor Duke, co dependant on women like the Queen and his wife, as well as others like those Heretics whom he befriended, to survive! He seriously thought that he could have him executed when the King, and his greatest whore, Anne Boleyn, never could?

"Why so serious Your Grace" he asked mockingly. "You denounce me you will become the laughter of Christendom. Do you want everyone to know that a poor, crippled, old Ambassador as low as me stole your wife from your bed, that took her in his arms, many times and was in fact better than you? How would that look to your family, to yourself, to your children?"

Mary, thankfully Philip did not see, smirk at this last part, mentally congratulating Eustace for this spontaneous and very clever answer.

As Eustace had expected it made Philip retract from his initial threats to denounce him before the king, his pride his honor would be smeared that a man with gout had stole from him his wife, he would be the laugh of Christendom.

Now that he thought about it, just to amuse himself further, Eustace dared to say: "How would your family react if your wife suddenly found herself with bastard, I assure that" he paused seeing the horror of Eustace's last words on the young man's face "has not happened"

This made Philip sigh with relief. Just the thought of his wife carrying that man's bastard, not that it should worry Philip since Eustace Chapuys being a very sick and weak man, the child would probably be as sickly like him, probably it would not survive the pregnancy. Good riddance, he could not imagine a child of that man being brought to usurp the Tudor crown, it would be something unimaginable.

Eustace continued, becoming more amused as he thought –if you only knew that your wife has cuckold you with that bastard Lord Henry. "The King will only laugh at you, and though he would not bar your sons from the succession he will retain them in his custody, after all he would let you take them back to Germany, Bavaria or whatever it is you call that pitiful country. You would be forced to leave them in your dear "friends" care while you die in Bavaria, a poor Duke just like before"

After Eustace finished Philip's dark emerald eyes bore deeply into Eustace cold blue eyes.

"You are despicable!" He hissed.

Eustace allowed himself to laugh in front of this man. "No Your Grace I am plain cynical" he declared "unlike you I see the world right for what it is"

"You have ever had your way Ambassador" he said in a deathly serious voice "Yet have you thought what I am capable of doing to you? That I with all my willpower, with all the cards playing in my favor and against you Excellency, that I will let my wife go so she could marry you? That I will not use all of my resources, or her father's to keep our children with me. You said it yourself Excellency the children will never leave her grandfather's care"

It hurt when Mary and Eustace head this, but they knew Philip had a point. Her father, even if the divorce was granted, or by some miracle the Emperor approved of her after marriage with Eustace, he would not let her keep her children.

"You could never live a life in peace Mary!" He screamed, even if his wife was blocked from his sight he could almost picture her anguish, her salty tears escaping from her eyes as she pictured her existence, if she would dare to request a divorce and later marry Eustace Chapuys. "You will live marginalized by your deceit! You would see your children deny you, I could marry maybe their stepmother could become the mother you never were"

Mary flinched at his last words.

"That is a risk you should have thought of taking before you opened your legs for this man!"

Mary wept silently, more tears escaping from her eyes and reaching to her neck as a shiver ran down her spine at the prospect of having Philip marry another woman. It was not jealousy that afflicted her, Philip could bed any whore he wanted, but it was the thought of her children calling that whore mother. She could not live through that, her heart would not bear it.

In that moment that Philip finished speaking she knew what she had to do, it went against all of what her heart had dictated her (and she so far a faithful subject to it) had followed its command.

"You would remarry?" She did not know why she asked this when she already knew Philip's answer.

Eustace could feel his lady's sadness emanating from the coldness of her hand, as she put her callused palm on his shoulder moving next to him, coming to face to face with Philip again.

"What do you think?"

_He would_  –thought Mary, briefly closing her eyes and then when she opened she hoped she would see Philip's look softening at the sight of her, but she was disappointed.

Looking at her, in all her vital beauty, he could not bear the thought of her as another man's wife, especially as  **this**  man's wife, and leaving all of her status and everything she had once valued behind just to be with a commoner was to much for Philip to digest! It was outrageous, yet nothing unheard of considering that her English ancestor Katherine of Valois had done the same thing after her husband, Henry V had died. She had moved on fairly quickly, the French Princess and England's Dowager Queen, marrying a man far beneath her. Owen Tudor, the founder of the Tudor Dynasty. Though the Tudors, her family, tried to justify that the marriage was valid and that in fact she had not married any simpleton but a man who descended from Welsh nobility, the validity of this argument proved useless. Even if the man were to descend from King David himself, he was still a Welsh, and the English did not see the Welsh with good eyes.

Philip no longer would be able to see his wife with good eyes, she had been his prize, his ideal, and, he had to admit now that he saw her in all her splendor standing naked next to this man, his torment. She was so vital and so strong; she had been his strength though tough times he had gone through after his beloved cousin's death.

Whereas Mary considered him a poor apology for a husband –and a man –his mind added, he was much more than her lover.

He had given her everything to her –he raged mentally- he had loved her, cherished her, treated her better than any man treats his wife in this Kingdom! And this was how she repaid him? By having an affair and escaping in the middle of the night to be with this man, while their little Henry was left to his own luck, alone and attended by only one nurse? What kind of mother was she?

What had this man done to her?

He could only deplore her for craving sensual pleasures that she felt she was not getting from him. He did not want to believe that Mary no longer felt love for him. She had to love him, otherwise she would not feel this hatred for him. To feel hate, you had to have been in love and he rejected the notion that the only thing she felt for him now was hatred. He would never accept that. He refused to!

He could forgive her for this dalliance of course, if she only came back to him and promised that she would never engage in sin again.

If only Mary did not have to have too much of her father's bad blood in her, if she could only have been as pious as her mother had been, she would not have easily succumbed to temptation.

"I will weigh everything carefully before committing myself to you again" Mary said in a nonchalant way.

"That is a very subtle way to put it" Philip said slowly "But you forget one part sweetheart" he said sarcastically looking over at the Ambassador.

Immediately Eustace understood what Philip would ask of her next.

"You cannot be seriously thinking that I would let you go just like that? You have to give him up"

"If I don't?" Mary asked defiantly.

"Mary do as he says" Chapuys suddenly said grabbing her hand after she withdrew it from his shoulder. "Be rational" For once he wanted to say, as usual though, she did not listen to his advise.

She was being stubborn again, saw Eustace. Nothing good could ever come from her defiance.

"You cannot seriously think that I will let go of the only man that truly loved me for who I am, not for the title that I bared or the favors you gained thanks to me Philip!"

"If you do not give him up at once Madame I will make sure you never see your children again and that everyone knows you for the whore you are!" He cried spitting up in her face as he said this.

There was uncomfortable silence. Mary was holding her breath as her lovers who were staring at her expectantly waiting for an answer.

"Then it seems I must grant you your wish" She said solemnly.

She tried to look at Eustace who tried not to look sorrowful but he failed after Philip left but not before giving throwing to Eustace a smile of triumph on his face after he said he would wait downstairs for his wife to change so they could leave immediately for their Residence.

"This is goodbye then" Eustace said after the door was closed. "You will go back and you will forget this"

Mary shook her head violently. How could he say that? How could he assume that she could forget what they had? "What we had no one can take it away Eustace" she declared.

He smirked, how naïve she was.

"I wish this could have ended differently Mary" -he said letting himself be swallowed by melancholy for the first time. He had always been one to shun himself from feeling anything, hatred, love, lust, anything that could keep him from doing his job, his mission.

In the beginning that was what the Princess, Lady and now Duchess Mary was, just another mission another task, but the more she got to know his mother, the more he became convinced she could not be regarded as an object, the more he begged his master to lend more support to the good and only true Queen Katherine. He had risked his sanity for her after he had begun to obsess over the Princess' safety after her mother's death.

His letters had turned from describing the political climate in England, to detail everything he had seen of the Princess' plight. He had began to plead to his master to sent more aid to the Princess, it had been the sole reason why he had been forced to leave England for a period of a year, because the Emperor's closest kin, Mary of Hungary scolded him saying that he could not risk his life any further for the Princess, by risking his life and his reputation for her, he was also risking the future diplomatic relations between England the Empire.

Eustace recognized his mistakes now.

If he had not planned for her escapes two times, or alternatively if he had planned them more carefully, she would have successfully been in the hands of her cousin by now, she would have married (regardless of whether D. Luis was really married to THAT woman Yolanda) the man who was closest to the Portuguese crown. She would have been happier to share a marriage bed with a man of her same faith. She would have had more children, and she would not have had to dwell with the fact of having to uncover her last' son true parentage from her Heretic husband.

She would have been happier than she was now.

She would not have had to sin, he would not have had to sin either.

Both would have been free of sin.

But life was never fair.

There was no point now in dwelling on alternate outcomes that would never be. The past was the past, they could not change it back. There was no point in making matters worse by dwelling on it.

"We knew this outcome might have come" Mary said sadly.

Eustace put a hand on her face that still felt wet after all the tears that had been shed because of Philip's harsh words.

"You must be strong"

"How can I?"

"You have to" he said simply. It was what she would have to survive her husband, just leave, leave him, and forget everything they had.

Mary shook her head again and again as he grabbed her cold shoulders.

"Milady you will have to forget me, if you want to see your children again …"

"I do not care" she blanched. "I want to be with you" she declared with a voice that reminded him like the love sick girls that he had witnessed many times in the Courts he had been in, after they would be hypnotized by older vultures who would woo them first and later leave them.

Eustace did not want to think himself that way, but the proof was in front of him that she was very much in love with him.

He had to turn cold, he had to be angry, he had to make her realize that what they had could never be. She was living in a dream.

"Madame" he said coldly "Have you forgotten that I am a commoner and you a Princess. My mother descends from the old nobility of Savoy, but compared to your ancestry I am nothing but a mere insect!"

"We can make it work, maybe if I appeal before my father" she began but was cut off by Chapuys' frustrated voice.

"No court in Christendom would award you custody of them"

"But if I am your wife surely the Emperor … he would help us, he would see it is better for them to have a Catholic stepfather than a Heretic father, surely you yourself know this!" She cried desperately in a last attempt to turn him to her line of reasoning however she failed miserably as Chapuys sighed and lowered his gaze.

"Milady the Emperor would be much in denial of our relationship, no relative of yours in Christendom would want to see themselves associated with the trail of breadcrumbs that you leave behind if we marry."

"So that is it then? You will have me remain married to him?"

"You have no choice!" He yelled.

"So this is it then?" There were tears in her eyes again, it was not because of the pain she felt of having to face reality if she married him and not see her children again, it came more on the account that he preferred her to leave her married to Philip.

Didn't he say he loved her?

"You would deprive me of yourself?" She asked with disbelief in her voice. She persisted that he with his intellect they could somehow found a way to make this successful.

He looked up to her again, meeting her saddened gaze. He would have to crush her more if he wanted her to remain in her father's favor. He could not afford her to give up everything they had worked so far for her to achieve just for him!

If this meant loosing her love then so be it!

"As usual Madame you never think things through. You just act impetuously, causing a lot of grief to yourself. You are the one who wanted to be with him, you accepted Philip's proposal milady, you should have thought well of the consequences when you said yes to him a few moments ago. I love you –God help me, I do milady! But I cannot blind myself from the reality of what this would mean for us, for  **you**  if our relationship is discovered. Think of your children," then Eustace lowered his voice to a whisper "think of our son if they discovered who his real father is"

Both of them were weeping now.

"I know you love me" She persisted.

Oh God he thought, when would this woman understand?

He loved her more than life itself, he would sacrifice everything for her, but he could not allow her to sacrifice everything he had worked for her to achieve, to throw it away just for lust.

"I cannot grant you what you want Mary" They both knew this was true. He was a lowly Ambassador, what could he possibly give her except castles and homes that would be nothing compared to what she had been used to since birth? Mary knew this very well as she saw the sadness in his eyes now more evident as he shed one last tear for her before turning away and beginning to put his clothes on.

She did the same.

She wiped away the tears from her face and began to change back into her old clothes that she had not worn since yesterday when she arrived by midday to his cottage.

This was truly over. And she could not help but feel regret, not because this was over, but because of him. If he had truly loved he would have fought for her. He would have let Philip taken her, he would have stood up against Philip, he would have rebuked him, he would have made a stand against him!

The prospects of her freedom were destroyed as she moved to the door once Eustace had finished dressing up.

She turned to look at him expecting for him, as he clutched his black cane, to come to her, beating the pain of the gout that afflicted him, and kiss her goodbye. But no such thing happened. Mary found herself staring at a ghost who was as pale as she was.

She closed her eyes and wheeled back turning the door knob and feeling a huge knot in her chest as she raced downstairs where Philip and Susan and Jane were already waiting for her.

 

* * *

 

" _The course of true love never did run smooth."_

**~William Shakespeare in A Midnight Summer's Dream**

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

Why did you not chase her? I heard a voice inside of me scream.

What could I have said to her? I screamed back. That I love her and I want her to stay with me so she later is forced to watch her children being raised, not only by Heretics, but also by another woman worse than the Queen, a woman I further explain, whom the children will grow to love more than their own mother? No, I could not afford that. Cold and heartless as I was often accused by the entire English Court to be, I was not as heartless as to let the Princess be witness to that.

I did the right thing, I told myself.

Reasoning dominating me once more I walked to the door and locked it. I would not want to receive anyone today for the rest of the night or next day for that matter. In fact I was not sure if I wanted to see anyone ever again.

As I heard the galloping of the horses, my heart raced, and huge lump was formed in my throat.

I sat on the bed where I buried my head in my hands after I threw my cane across the room. That cane was just a reminder of my crippled state.

Marillac and the others always said that was my greatest weakness, that I was easy to beat because I was nothing more than a crippled, old and weak fool! I had never regarded Marillac as a serious fellow, therefore I never took him seriously but that did not mean that I was not wary of him either. I was always wary of everyone, however today after the galloping of the horses, its sound faded away I became to ponder on Marillac's words that I was a weak old fool.

His words sounded truer now, to my own disgust.

I was weak, just look at me here I am, my face stained by tears that I had shed when I told milady that she better leave for the sake of her children, and for the sake of her ambitions so one day she could (hopefully) be the Queen she, and her mother, always dreamed of becoming.

I shook my head. What a mess they had made.

They had changed the world, and now they wanted to change it back, to forget everything (as he told his lady they should do).

That beautiful Princess had began her life with such high hopes. She had been the favorite of her father, her pride, her joy, her pearl, and along had came a spider called Anne Boleyn who had to ruin it! How he hated that woman now more than ever.

Goddamn it all, I spoke aloud, goddamn it all to hell. I wish I could rip my heart out so I did not have to feel again.

What had she done to him?

How was it that no other woman had this effect on me as she did?

She had bewitched me, just like her mortal enemy Anne Boleyn and her cousin, the current Queen, Katherine Howard, had bewitched her father twice, she had trapped me and imprinted herself on me!

I hated myself for having to fall under love's clutches. I should have known better than to fallen in love, and not just with anyone but with a Princess and a married one at that!

I had done more harm to her than good. I had begotten a child on her, a child that I was forced to hear day and day after  **its**  birth how the King favored him, how the whole Court saw little Lord Henry (oh the irony there!) as their savior. Strong and healthy, they said he reminded them of their King, those who were old enough to remember, when Henry VIII was but a little child, a mere Duke of York second after his brother Arthur, the ill fated Prince of Wales who had been his wife's first husband.

Not a marriage really, Arthur Tudor unlike his younger brother, was very weak and he could not engage in the sexual act like his brother. Under grounds that their marriage was never consummated, Katherine of Aragon received a papal dispensation that allowed her to marry his next of kin, her brother the now Prince of Wales and subsequently heir to the English Crown, Henry Tudor.

I could not compare her daughter now to her mother. She had been pious, loyal and ferocious to her husband, unlike Mary. She would never have left her daughter for another man, even if she had fallen madly in love like the Princess had fallen for me, Katherine of Aragon would have NEVER (I was sure of it) abandon her daughter to be with her lover. She would have been more reasonable, the Queen I whisper to myself, had always been more reasonable.

Milady was not.

She was too emotional, she was everything she was taught not to be.

However she had one desire her mother never did. Freedom. Mary yearned for freedom, to return to Hunsdson, to be with me to be away from Philip. To be a free woman ruler of her household and not having to depend on any other man like her mother or any other woman before her.

She was England's own Eleanor of Aquitaine, except even Eleanor of Aquitaine had been more ambitious and smarter to know that she could not make it through life alone without the help of a powerful man by her side. That was what milady should have thought when she fell in love with me! She should have measured the consequences.

"I should have measured them" I said aloud. Her happiness, everything that I claimed I cared for was ruined and it was all our fault! We did this! I did this!

Stop it Eustace! My mind rages.

No, my mind must stop making excuses for myself. That was not the way I was raised, the way I was taught either. Think first, self preservation and duty is always first, emotions are an unnecessary extra.

That was how I was.

Above me, in the dark sky I know was studded with stars, those same stars where God and his Angels resided, looking at me in disapproval. I caught my breath suddenly, I must be certain that I made the right decision. I must suppress my sadness, for there was no other way. Life had to go on.

Mary's sons would be well cared for as always, they would barely receive their mother's visits if she were to divorce Philip to be with me. She had to give me up, and I had to make the lamb to the slaughter, I had to be cold, callous and cynical to her so she could understand that there was no other way for her to continue with her children. I knew she was ambitious, but that was before she became a mother.

Her own future was mapped now by motherhood, the very thing I dreaded her to enter when she became Philip of Bavaria's spouse, and there was no way out of that fate that she made for herself, even if that is what  _ **we**_ wanted.

We did our best though to keep it a secret, but milady being the emotional creature that she was, she had not burned the letters as I suspected, for how else could have Philip of Bavaria have found out about our relationship or the whereabouts of my cottage?

She was on her way home, seated in front of Philip looking away I can picture from his look of triumph. He would forbid anymore visits to me, and I will not be allowed to see her, not even a simple audience or a greeting. The Duke will do everything in his power to keep us from being together again, and what is worse out of all this situation is that he in his full right to do this! She is his wife, he is her husband and I am just ... what was I really?

I begin to cackle madly, I was just a lover a way out of her sadness, I was no different from other women looking for older or younger men as an escape from their dull lives, because their husbands, much like milady's could not please them enough.

How different had I become then, bedding a married woman, taking advantage from a woman that could well be my daughter, from the King of England who took advantage wolfing his way around the court hunting the younger girls?

Was I that different from the rest?

I vowed myself I would never be like them, but I had become trapped by those two dark orbs of Princess Mary. She had changed me, and we changed everything, now nothing would be the same. She would lose what little independence she had with the Duke of Bavaria. He would lock her up, in the same manor her father had locked up her mother, in Hunsdson. She would not see someone unless her husband allowed her to, she would not speak unless he said so, she would not even eat unless he said so.

It was her punishment from breaking God's most blessed sacrament: marriage.

And it would be my punishment to see her tied by Philip's invisible chains, I would be a silent observer unable to do nothing to free her from him.

God's law must prevail though. She was a married woman, and I was man who was at the service of God, the Church and my Master the Emperor. "Things must flow according to God's law" I whisper finally allowing my body the rest it needed as I close my eyes and fall under a dreamless sleep.


	32. Sailing three times: War, love, and loss

" _I want you to remember_  
A love so full it could send us all ways  
I want you to surrender  
All my feelings rose today  
And I want you to remain  
The power of children can amaze  
I'll try not to complain  
I know that's a pisser baby

 _The chemicals between us_  
The walls that lie between us  
Lying in this bed  
The chemicals displaced  
There is no lonelier state  
Than lying in this bed

 _I want you to remember_  
Everything you said  
Every driven word  
Like a hammer, hell, to my head

 _The chemicals between us_  
The walls that lie between us  
Lying in this bed  
The chemicals displaced  
There is no lonely face  
Than lying in this bed

 _The chemicals between us_  
The chemicals between us  
Lying in this bed

 _We're of the hollow men_  
We are the naked ones  
We never meant you harm  
Never meant you wrong  
I'd like to thank  
All of my lovers, lovers, lovers

 _The chemicals between us_  
The army of achievers  
Lying in this bed  
The chemicals displaced  
There is no lonelier state  
Than lying in this bed

 _The chemicals between us_  
The chemicals between us  
The chemicals

_The chemicals between us."_

**Chemicals Between us by BUSH**

 

* * *

 

**Hunsdson**

The walls aligned between us keeping us separate, and yet at the same time trapping us together in this large bed chamber. When we arrived to Hunsdson, none of us spoke. I could see Sophie looking at me with sadness in her eyes. I did not blame the poor girl for having told Philip the truth. The poor girl did not know anything. In all reality she was as ignorant as Philip had been of my relationship with Chapuys.

Sophie, I hope for her sake, did not found out. I knew her father, he was a stubborn old man, very handsome for his age, but very stubborn and also a fanatical Evangelical. I had heard that he gave aid to many Heretics and that he supported the Concubine and her (back then) her lapdog Cranmer to her rise as Queen of England.

I should not have hired Sophie, but I took pity on the poor girl, a little older than Jane she had come to me begging her to take her in. How could I have said no? I could see no deceit in her eyes.

Unlike her father who gave patronage to all those Heretics, Sophie was very different. Her parents had divorced when she was four, and she had been raised by her mother. Out of some miracle her father had allowed her Catholic mother to keep Sophie, and since then Sophie had been raised in a good Catholic home until her mother died five years ago and she was forced to leave with her father. During this time she had to obey him, like any good and filial daughter she had never rebelled against him, even when his beliefs went against hers. However; we all have our breaking point, and Sophie had hers. In the middle of the night where all this drama, Mary found, happens, she came knocking on Mary's door at Hunsdson and begged to be in her service stating her mother had once been a loyal lady in waiting to her mother, the true Queen of England.

Mary had no choice but to accept her, and since then Sophie had been with them. She had been a good friend to Mary, and especially to Jane, she had been a very trustworthy confidant. From time to time Sophie asked to visit her father, he may be a heretic –Sophie had said- but he is still my father Milady.

Mary knew what it was to live under the iron fist of a godless and soulless creature like her father, so she always granted Sophie permission.

When Sophie knelt before her asking forgiveness for telling the Duke that she had been gone, Mary had lifted the girl with her two fingers underneath the younger one's chin and said that there was nothing to forgive, like Jesus told Peter when he struck the Roman soldiers that had come for his master, she had only been doing her duty. How could she be angry with her?

Philip however, she had been very furious with him. He dared to take the only thing, the only person that ever meant something to her in this Court full of masks! How dare he?

"You took away from me …" She began once they were alone in their chambers.

"Would you shut it!" He spat. It was morning the sun was shining on their entire chambers, with its open windows the rays of the sun illuminated Mary making her seem like an angel, however Philip knew better. She was no angel and definitely not a saint. She was all that had mother had taught her not to be.

She had behaved like a common whore in front of that man, and she had backstabbed him after all the love and adoration he gave to her!

He never expected anything in return except her loyalty, was that too much ask of her?

"You never cared about me, you only saw me as your fertile mare. You use our sons to advance your position in my father's court. Admit it Philip you care only about what my womb brings you, you don't really love me. Why can't you let me be?" She demanded.

"Because I cannot risk my pride being dragged through the mud as yours by that man Mary! Think, don't you realize he has been using you since the first time he met you when you were your sister's servant!"

"You are lying" she shook her head vigorously. "Eustace would never-" -She was cut off by Philip's angry outburst of jealousy and rage –"He did use you Madame … or haven't you wondered what he was doing last week in Whitehall, when the Duke of Suffolk went to his Office?"

She looked away. She could remember that day. She had gone from the Court scene to visit the Imperial Embassy when she found her uncle, the Duke of Suffolk coming to the same direction. Before he could spot her she hid behind a pillar watching the whole scene unfold. She had asked Eustace why the Duke had visited him, but he never wanted to say.

Wheeling back to Philip, she could tell she was about to find out.

"War my dear" he said simply "There is going to be war in all of Europe, your father has refused Marillac's proposal to wed our eldest son to the Duke Guise's eldest daughter Catherine. Apparently your father did not see well that Francois found yet another excuse to want to get back the duchy of Milan which he claims is rightfully his"

She shook her head even more violently "My father has not considered on Marillac's proposal because he has always hated the French, he sees their lands as rightfully ours" She countered.

"How naïve you are Madame! Your father might hate the French, but he hates the fucking Ottoman Emperor more. He sees Francis' alliance with Suleyman more than treachery, he views it as something unholy"

"And what if he does?" she challenged "What is that to you? Why should you be worried about war? It is clear you were bestowed great honors after the siege of Vienna, I know how you held off, everyone knows about the great tales they speak about you. How else do you think my father will make good use of you? Surely you must think your great chance to make a name for yourself, to be amongst his greatest generals"

"I would except the Duke of Cleves my cousin support Francis! Do you realize what the Imperial Ambassador has done, him and his Master to undermine my family?"

"Your family is worth nothing, you are a Tudor now or do you forget that you gave out your last name …"

"Don't remind me of the sacrifices I did for you!" He cried. He could feel the tears in his eyes, he did not want to shed any of them for her. If anyone had to cry and beg for forgiveness it should be her!

"For me?" she asked raising an eyebrow. "You did it for yourself. Everything you have so called done for me, it has been for you. It has always been you, you and you!" she accused him her finger flying to his direction.

"You have no idea what I sacrificed for you" He said quietly turning away from her. He was tired of this Country, of its King, of its people and (now) he was tired of her.

"We had such high hopes" he said after a moment of silence "for this marriage"

Mary rose from her seat and she went to look out one of their narrow windows –barely more than an arrow slit –across the horizon as the sun rose higher than she had ever seen it before. Above them the sky no longer had dark clouds. The sky was clear as was the resolve in her heart. She loved Eustace, not Philip.

* * *

**(Mary POV)**

Philip, then I thought, it was not his fault, it was mine. It was my entire fault. I thought that he would be different, that he would make my situation better. That finally married I would not have to be haunted by the thought of having to die alone and abandoned like my mother. I yearned so much for my father's approval, and yes now I see  **he**  was right, for everyone's approval. I only wanted to be loved. I thought I would have all of that with Philip, I was mistaken.

"We can still make it work" He said, wiping a tear from his face. I look at him in disbelief. After all I did and said he still wants us to be together? Is he mad? Does he really think this can world after all that I did to him? Does my relationship with Eustace mean nothing to him?

I don't love you –my eyes screamed as they looked into his dark emerald ones.

"This can never work" I said in a nonchalant manner. "We are a dead family, just like my mother and my father."

"We do not have to be" he said slowly "Mary we can make this work. I love you"

"No" I shook my head, it was not love he felt, it was duty and ambition just like I felt –I now realize- when I married him.

"We are a dead, our marriage is a lie, our love is a complete lie Philip. Who are we making fool of but us?" She cried, tears spilling from her eyes.

"We were destined to fail since … we married. Ours sons are better off"

Philip advanced in my direction. He could not believe what I was saying, how could he when he had been under the impression, all these years that I loved him? He probably thought that I would rather leave our sons in the care of my father than with their parents, he was wrong. I wanted my children in my care. How could he think that of me?

"Did you ever love them?" He asked suddenly making me go pale with shock. I barely had time to answer as he grabbed my shoulders and shook me violently. "Did you love them?" He asked once more this time louder. "Did you love me?"

What kind of question was that? Did I love them? Of course I loved them, I still did. Did I love him? Did I ever love Philip? Once I thought I did but now I am sure that it had never been love.

The look on my face must have been enough for Philip for he let me go and walked out of the room slamming the door leaving me alone with my sadness.

I did not hear of Philip for the rest of the day. He did not lock me in my room like I suspected he would do. He is not that type of man. Philip has every reason to denounce me, to ask for an annulment or for a divorce, worse he could denounced Eustace. But for obvious reason I knew he would not. Philip was a Royal, he was a man raised with the code of honors, and instilled in him since he was a child. I knew he was a man of his word. He would never denounce us as long as I remained with him –which I planned to do for my children, not our but my children for deep inside I knew that for all the love and gifts that Henry was showered by his "father" (Philip) he was not really Philip's.

And he would never be his.

Henry, I suspected would grow up to be like his real father, strong and astute with far more intelligence than his older brother or his so called "father".

My son will be a greater man than all their fathers, me or any other man in both sides of his family put together. He must be –for unless my father produced another son, he would surely be the next King of England after my brother and my eldest son.

* * *

" _Since marriage began, the great artist has been known as a bad-boy husband. But he is worse: he is a child-robber, a bloodsucker, a hypocrite and a cheat. Perish the race and wither a thousand women if only the sacrifice of them enable him to act Hamlet better, to paint a finer picture, to write a deeper poem, a greater play, a profounder philosophy!"_

**~Tanner (Character) in George Bernard's Shaw's play: Man and Superman (1903)**

* * *

 

_**1543,** _ **January 5th.**

**Nonsuch Palace**

**(Mary POV)**

I could not understand my father. First we were friends with France, now back to the Empire again I guessed. My father, if he hated something more than those who defied his authority like staunchly Catholics like I myself still was in secret, or alternatively like Heretics, were the Infidels. My father hated the Muslim faith worse than the Bishop of Rome's or Luther's.

He viewed Muslim with such deep hatred that it surprised everyone when he spoke how Suleyman should be captured and tortured until his bodily juices would escape from his body.

Such a notion was not a strange one to me. I had heard many say how we should rid the world of the Muslim faith, I partly agree. We must –but I wonder if this is the right way which Jesus would want us to act against our mortal enemies, through war?

It sounded ridiculous, but I had learned this was a man's world, and a man's world was full of war.

The whispering of Court subsided when I and Philip entered. Everyone was unaware of our marital problems, but they could see a change in us. We hardly spoke, and everyone looked at me with their solemn faces showing nothing but pity.

Philip was a great military leader, I would tell them, but it mattered nothing next to the great military leaders he would be facing, most who were his family, uncles and his cousin the Duke of Cleves who were in alliance with King Francis and the Turks they had once stood against. Funny how one day you can be friends and the next day mortal enemies. This world of men I never fully understood, and I don't think I never will as I saw my husband move away from me, yet his eyes never left me as he went to the King's direction, to my chagrin he left me with Kitty Howard and her brainless ladies.

 _Oh joy_  I thought hearing Katherine Howard complementing on my children once more. Was this woman's purpose in life to steal away everything I have -first with my father, then my husband, the entire English Court and now my children? My mind roared angrily as I was forced to give her a sweet smile, the best that I had given her so far.

* * *

**(Eustace POV)**

It was a week after New Year that all the preparations were done. It was clear, Henry VIII would be Span's ally, and in his army he would have the Duke of Norfolk, of course her uncle the Duke of Suffolk and last but not least his fourth general (a bad decision) his son in law the Duke of Bavaria.

The boy had no military skills compared to the elders whom he would be paired with.

Francis was no fool. He was not a great military leader but he was surrounded by experienced and trained generals, including the young man's family. Philip of Bavaria might have been the great hero of the Siege of Vienna, but he was still very young and extremely rash. He would make the Empire and England lose the battle, more importantly I think, he would lose his life because of his rash decisions in the battlefields.

But as I think of this –an idea crosses my mind. If the Duke were to die then milady would be completely free, a widow, to marry of whom she desired.

No Eustace, I think. Snap out of it. She could never be yours. She is too good for me, even if the Duke died, which that in itself would be a miracle, she would never marry me, her father would never let her.

And her children, she would stay with her children because I knew that her father would marry her off to the best bidder to make another alliance or worse she would be forced like Katherine of Valois to remain a widow. And unlike Katherine of Valois she would not give up her title as Dowager Duchess or her children to be with me.

She loved those children too much to give them up for love, in that I began to realize at last, she began to seem more and more like her mother, a different Katherine from the mother of the Tudor Dynasty.

I had done my best to protect her I realized, but I could never protect her from my love. My love destroyed us, and I had to get out of this room before I the strength in my knees leave me. I did not want to make a fool out of myself

It may have been Philip's glare that he had given her when she looked my way, but I realized I could not be in this Court room any longer so without notice I left and returned to my quarters where Fleming looked warily.

"What?" I asked throwing my cane to the floor. Fleming picked it up and shook his head giving me a disapproving look.

"Nothing master I was only sad because I saw a man today at Court leave everything he loved behind" he said and before I could open my mouth to bark at him at how he dare speak like that to his master, he left.

I walked despite the aching in my bones to the door making sure it would be locked. It was.

Good –I thought, and walked back to my bed where I stripped down and completely naked I slipped underneath the silken white sheets.

The only good thing that could come, I thought again, I just could not help it, is that if the Duke dies, I would be closer to milady than before. No more having to keep it secrets, I thought back to what she said.  _"You could find a way"_  Indeed I went deep in thought, I could find a way. Tomorrow I decided I would use all of my knowledge of canon law, and experience in the English Court, to find a way, just in case the Duke would die (after all it could be a possibility, the young man was very inexperienced and this would be a serious war he would be in, and I could not help but think of him lying there in the floor bleeding to death because of his own stupidity, the thought alone was too beautiful for me to abandon), for her to keep her children if she married me.

There had to be a way, there just had to be otherwise it would all be for nothing, this worry of mine.


	33. Suffocating me

" _You never go_  
 _Your always here (suffocating me)_  
 _Under my skin_  
 _I cannot run away_  
 _Fading slowly_

_I'd give it all to you_   
_Letting go of me_   
_Reaching as I fall_   
_I know it's already over now_   
_Nothing left to lose_   
_Loving you again_   
_I know it's already over, already over now_

_My best defense, running from you (Cost me everything)_   
_I can't resist, take all you want from me_   
_Breaking slowly_

_I'd give it all to you_   
_Letting go of me_   
_Reaching as I fall_   
_I know it's already over now_   
_Nothing left to lose_   
_Loving you again_   
_I know it's already over, already over now_

_You're all I'm reaching for_   
_It's already over_   
_All I'm reaching for_   
_It's already over now_

_I'd give it all to you_   
_I offer up my soul_   
_It's already over, already over now_

_Give it all to you_   
_Letting go of me_   
_Reaching as I fall_   
_I know it's already over now_   
_Nothing left to lose_   
_Loving you again_   
_I know it's already over now_   
_It's already over now_   
_I know it's already over, already over"_

**~Red -Already Over**

* * *

 

**1543,** **January 8th**

**(Eustace POV)  
**

As I promised next day I arose from bed and began to look through old document of canon law and English law as well, I was looking for any record that could help milady and myself keep her children in our custody, in case we were to marry and Philip were to die in the battlefield, which I wish but alas that could only be a miracle, but one nonetheless that I must ponder on. God could be merciful you never know.

Stop being positive and focus on the mission, my mind tells me and I go back to search through all the documents of similar cases in which custody is awarded to the mother and her new husband. So far there were no such cases, there was a case however the mother was lowborn and the father was a rich man which titles and vast lands, it was obvious that the Courts would have ruled in his favor.

With a man like me, though I knew I would be rich by the time I retired and moved back to Annency, it would be of no use. Money though it mattered a great deal in these cases, titles were everything. And what was I? But a lowly Ambassador, Excellency that was my only title -if you can call that a proper title.

Even Marillac had more noble blood than me! Just the thought of that made my mind seethe with rage.

I had to find something, there just had to be something, anything, a loophole, I was not asking for much Lord!

I finally gave up after long hours of searching.

No court would rule in our favor, it would be a miracle in itself that they would let us marry.

I walked back to the bed. I was already dressed, I was ready to attend Court as duty required me to. I had to watch everything that would happen today.

Today would be an important day. Today was the day that the King would announce that we, the Empire and England would be allies and that we would go to war. Today was also the day he would handpick and announce his major generals that would go with him to war.

When I arrived at Court I glanced at Marillac. I knew it was only a matter of time before that Frenchman left Court. Monsieur Marillac -I though a smile forming- you have been ousted by the man you accused to be nothing more than a crippled and old man, a monkey at Court -had been his exact words.

I diverted my gaze then to the King who was looking directly at his wife, and then his gaze traveled to his (now favorite daughter) Lady Elizabeth. No matter that his eldest daughter had brought him the heirs he always wanted, it was his daughter Elizabeth who was enjoying all the spoils of it. The King, thank in part to the young and frivolous Queen Katherine Howard, had showered the Lady Elizabeth with many gifts, and not only that, it was said that she would soon be given another household, one that my sources said was once meat to be milady's, Woodsham.

Near Maldon Port, now Lady Elizabeth would have three household, one near Pembroke which had once belonged to her mother when she had been named Marquess of Pembroke, her current on Hatfield, and the last but not least that she was about to be awarded, Woodsham.

It was too much for a bastard brat -I think. Does she deserve all of it? When it was her sister who had brought the crown two male heirs, one of them who was healthier than the other and was currently His Majesty's favorite? Why wasn't milady being showered with favor and gifts? The only time she was praised was when they suspected she was pregnant again. In fact that was the only praise she received, based on her pregnancy.

It angered me, but I suspected as my gaze shifted to her who was wearing a fake smile on her lips (I knew her well to know when she was pretending by that quick tick in the form of blinking, in her eyes), that she was only being recognized on the merit of her womb. She yearned for something more, she yearned to be the leader, the mother of nations, she saw all of the English, the Catholics as her real children. Her charitable spirit was known in all of England, just four years ago Cromwell had condemned her for it. The Master Secretary and Lord of the Privy Seal thought that she was housing Catholic fugitives, of course Cromwell had no proof he only wanted to discredit her good work, but nonetheless the Princess had to submit to the Master Secretary as any other to prove she was her father's loyal subject.

If someone wanted to have the King's favor, it didn't only do by praising his wife, they also had to be on the good side of the Master Secretary and the Lord of the Privy Seal, Thomas Cromwell.

I rubbed my forehead. It was supposed to be warm here, yet I felt a shiver ran down my spine as I watched the Duke's lips kiss her brow. Everyone who watched thought that the Duke was an ideal husband, that they were the ideal couple, a perfect example of a perfect marriage.

I scoff at those fools whose eyes will never see beyond the exterior. These fools, they never stop to think before they talk about someone. They base themselves on the physical appearances, they never saw what was underneath someone. They preferred to live in their little world where good and evil existed, they never stopped to think because if they did I knew they would see their world crushed like mine. I had survived all these years at Court exactly because of that. Because I had seen the true souls of everyone, not just the English or milady's but everyone I came in contact with, I first locked eyes with that person. In the New world the old natives, it was said by Fray Bartolome de las Casas, that they could see right through the souls of people just by looking into their eyes.

In fact the eyes were the windows of the souls for me. Just by looking at someone you could tell what kind of person you were up against, if he would be your ally, your tool or your rival.

Sometimes you found one person falling under all these categories.

* * *

It had been ten days since this was announced. The King would ride off into battle soon. The Howards were rising higher in power, now that rumor had it the Queen was pregnant and her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk who was famous for using Howard girls to advance his family's position at Court, was now being used by His Majesty for his military expertise to ride into battle with him and the rest of his English troops.

The Duke of Bavaria I could see was nervous. He did not expect the King to announce they would go into battle so quickly.

Poor boy, I pitied him, for he yearned for glory and instead he was being thrown into the wolves. With little experience but the Siege of Vienna, he would be thrown back into the battlefield against his family's former enemies, the Turks. This would not be Siege of Vienna Philip, I wanted to tell him. This would be much more different, here every decision you made, could get yourself killed or worse (if you care) get your men killed.

This was no simple siege. He would be up against the greatest armies the world had ever seen.

Was he prepared? I sincerely hoped not. I hoped for the Empire's sake he would not loose his battles, but I hoped for milady's sake that he would die. Of a deathly injure or camp sickness, anything that would make the way clear for and the Princess, and for her children to remain in her custody.

He saw right through me after he turned to my direction to lock glances with me. He knew what I was thinking, and his eyes spoke of triumph. So sure of himself was he. He thought that he would win. He clearly had never been up against Francis or the other Generals that had sided with him and the Turks. Let him think of triumph then, he would soon see he was playing with the big boys now.

* * *

Philip felt the Imperial Ambassador's eyes on him. He shrugged his shoulders.  _'Let the man smile at him with triumph. He would soon see that when a Wittelsbach committed themselves to a goal, they got it' -_ Philip thought arrogantly taking his look away from him, he turned to his wife who had to smile back at him to keep up with the appearances.

How she hated doing this. Subjecting herself to this hypocrisy. She preferred for Philip to hate her, for others to hate her as well but not having to pretend in this Court of masks. She felt she was becoming something else being with Philip, and she didn't like it, as much as she didn't like being away from  _him._

Everything a Wittelsbach wanted, a Wittelsbach got. Philip was no different.

It had been forever since the King announced they would be going into battle. He had to admit he was nervous, and panic surged through him when the King announced he had chosen Philip based on his military knowledge since Vienna to ride with him and his two main generals, Norfolk and Suffolk, out into battle. He hardly knew those terrains, though he had experience with the Turks. It made him nervous, the possibility that he might not be coming back to his wife and his two children.

The Ambassador would not look her way, Philip noted smiling inwardly as his wife tried to throw a smile his way. He never answered her, he hated to admit but damn that man was bloody smart, too smart for his wife who had known him in every sense of the word, to recognize it.

The court was rising, more members were entering the Court making their way through the other Courtiers already present.

The Archbishop Cranmer of Canterbury -Philip noticed, with his flurry of purple and furs (he guessed he must have barely arrived in the dead of night for he was very attached to his furs), was making his way toward them.

He smiled at his friend and pulled him to a great embrace. It had been a lifetime since they had the pleasure of talking.

"Your Grace" Cranmer greeted to his good and loyal friend the Duke of Bavaria.

The Duke bowed his head in respect for the Archbishop. If it hadn't been for Cranmer, Philip would not have gotten this far in this stranger's Court. It had all been thanks to him -he now acknowledged to his good friend after they were done with the formalities.

"You do not have to thank me Your Grace" he paused watching his friend throw him that look. He quickly rephrased "Philip then, you don't have to thank me, you did all this on your own. Your wits and your good will did all of this possible"

Philip smiled, he preferred to be rid of the formalities when he was with his friend. They were by all means in private. The only one who stood besides them was his wife, but she would not say anything -she never did, Cranmer noticed with a glint in his eyes as he looked at the Duke's wife. To think this was the girl the good Queen Anne - _a Lady that so far he had never met any other to exceed his expectation of what a good evangelical wife, and Queen should be_ ( **her cousin** ,  **Katherine Howard -he considered-** was a poor embarassment to the good memory of that exceptional Queen -the only one, Cranmer thought, that so far had been the rightfully crowned and anointed Queen of England)- thought would be her downfall. Why she was a poor little mouse, she could hardly, now that Cranmer took a closer look on this cowering bastard, harm anyone. It had been a good decision, no doubt God's, to send her a husband who could tame her wild spirit like Cranmer.

Suddenly this thoughts stopped as he heard his good friend's, Philip's, voice -"Why so serious my friend? I would think you were disapproving of my wife?" Philip inquired with a playful smile.

Cranmer smirked and quickly replied composing himself and looking up at his friend, "Oh no, I was just admiring the Duchess, and hoping to God, that He can bless you with another child. Your children after all are our greatest gifts so far, and Henry himself not even a year old and last time I visited him at your home my friend, he was already walking and talking" Philip beamed at his comment. He was very proud of Henry as was everyone else in the Kingdom. Cranmer turned to Mary who was forced, to please her  _good_  husband, smiled back at Cranmer. How she yearned to take that smile off his face. Cranmer could see right through her, better than her own husband. He was not intimidated by her.  
"You should be very proud milady" he said bowing his head in mock respect to the Duchess.

Mary's smile did not wear off despite the sarcasm in Cranmer's words and gesture. "Oh I am." She said in a nonchalant way her smile wearing off as she felt a familiar gaze on her. She did not dare turn  _his_  way, they would know, especially Cranmer whose gaze was already very intrusive.

"Your Grace you must feel a blessed man. Two children, two fine children. I am sure they will grow to love the gospels as much as they do their father." Cranmer said expectantly.

"Of course they will. Their tutors I hear are men of God as yourself are they not?"

"Yes they are. Master Stamp is a man who follows our King and God to the boot. He has expressed interest in being Lord Henry's personal tutor after all that I have told him about your son"

"I hope my friend you were not over exaggerating" Philip said. His good friend had a tendency to do that.

"Is it exaggerating to praise what I see will be a great man with a greater future paved for him?" Said Cranmer knowingly.

"You got me there. But my Henry is very little still, and as you said it yourself we can still have more" Philip told him.

"Immediately?"

"That depends" Philip said slowly turning to his wife who was beaming with false joy, putting up the best show playing her part very well for this hypocrisy.  
"What do you say sweetheart?" He asked her in a loving manner.

"Yes. The crown and Bavaria as well need more heirs. I am only grateful, praying that I can do my duty to my loving husband and for England's best benefit" She had not, of course, been lying when she said this. The most important thing she intended to accomplish out of this marriage was for her own benefit and her children. For that, she knew she must wait until Philip would come back (after he would leave to war) in a coffin. She mentally smirked at that thought. Her dear 'husband' dying in the battlefield. It would not be something foreign to her. Many of her mother's ladies in waiting whose husbands had gone to war in her father's campaign in Theurianne (when he first fought the French forces of Louis XII)had lost their husbands. Her mother had been very generous to them, allowing them to keep a place in her Household. It was not impossible that Philip could lose his life during one of her father's campaigns, as much as Mary hated to admit it, her father was not the best general, if not for Norfolk and her uncle Charles Brandon, he would be dead already on those past campaigns where he fought the French.

The thought of Philip dying, though it caused her great pain. She pondered on it more, because his death would free her from this burden of having to bed him day and night, and having to watch as her children would grow up under the tutelage of Heretics. -If Philip were to die -she pondered once more as she watched Cranmer praise her for her answer (she smiled back, this dangerous thought helped her maintain her smile)- she would be a free woman, free to raise her children, to take them to live with her where she would teach them of the true one faith, the one True God, and not the fallacies that Cranmer and his legion were teaching them.

Cranmer could see something in those strange eyes of the Duchess. She was up to something, he knew her well enough to know that she was not to be trusted. While her face and mouth said one thing, her eyes said another. There was dangerous glint in those dark gray hooks of hers, and he did not like it, however he was not going to worry about what she could be plotting. He and Cromwell had enough men in this Court to know what happened behind their backs, especially Cromwell.

"Well then" he said after he finished praising the Duchess (his words exactly - _filial and loyal, very wise to be so to your husband_ ) "I am off now"

"Oh my friend don't tell me I bored you" Philip said showing him the same playful smile.

"Oh no, no Philip, but forgive me but the reason I have come here in the first place is to discuss with His Majesty these matters of wars. Pity that men should always engage in such actions" Cranmer said disapprovingly.

Philip nodded "I agree, it is something that is a real misfortune, for those of us who have a conscience"

"Let not the King caught you saying that, today we are friends with the Empire, maybe tomorrow when we are back being friends with the French he can praise you for that"

Philip could not help but chuckle at his friend's words. He couldn't agree more. He had been spending enough time in this Court to notice how quickly the opinions of these people changed.

He put a hand on Thomas' shoulder. "Good luck then Thomas. Gott mins uns" Philip said which meant God be with you.

"And with you as well Philip." Thomas answered with a light smile and then he left.

* * *

_"Love has to be the most difficult emotion. Unlike hatred you know it is deceitful, with love you don't know if it is going to last, or if is even love. Because really what is love? Is love even merciful, is it even real? Or is it something fake that perhaps we make it real like fairy tales, we feed it into our children so they don't know the truth._

_-What truth?_

_That love is nothing but an evolved form of lust"_

**~Fairy Tales by Anonymous**

* * *

 

Eustace faced her. It had been three months, three long months since war erupted, and three months that she was still not by her side.

She was watched day and night by her husband's Bavarian servants, not to mention that meddlesome half French Sophie.

He could not stand a day without her, let along now nearly half a year. It had been only five months but for him it felt five years. He looked at the sleeping form next to him. Like any man he needed an escape. After the woman you loved had finally become untouchable you found yourself in a deeper abyss than when you were with the person you loved, trying to keep your relationship a secret from her jealous husband.

The woman next to him on her bed, he realized, was not so different from his Princess. She had darker hair, almost black, but her skin complexion, very white much like hers, and the color of her eyes though brown were the same shape as Mary's. He now understood why he had once felt attracted to this woman, this whore he had now become one of the many men who had fallen under her long lists of lovers.

He felt her stir. She opened her eyes, her dark brown eyes locked with his sky blue ones.

"Eustace" She said seductively her hand reaching up to his chin.

He pulled away from her touch, suddenly disgusted by what he had done. Shame washed all over him as he heard her laugh when he turned away.

"You are thinking of her aren't you?" She inquired. She may be all this man thought her to be, a despicable woman, a poor excuse of a human being. That was certainly what every one she had been with, all of her lovers, all thought of her as.

Yet, as a whore she had come to more about mankind than the big shots that said to know more of the world because of their voyages to different Courts.

Wars -she knew did not make men great, but they made men feel great. As for women, the only thing they were good for was bringing children to their husbands or being a man's whore. That was the destiny of all woman, to be men's whores. The only difference between women who were married and women who were not -was that whores like her got paid, wives did not, they were whores submitted to their husbands, yet this did not mean that they did not have ambitions. Her last lover for example, she often told him how his wife was an awful wench who only married him for his money and his influences with the Court. She smirked at the memory of Alexander. To date he had been her best fuck. God, even when she saw him in the crowded streets of London, he was still quite beddable, except Alexander since his ex-wife died he had no longer had the taste to take her or any other woman for that matter. It was a shame, she had enjoyed her time with him.

Her attention was turned to this man. Everyone knew who this man was. A man of God, a man of letter, a Christian Humanist. Bah! Cynthia thought. If only they knew that I had bedded the moralistic man behind all the machinations of the Empire in the Tudor Court, I would become the most famous (infamous!) in all of Christendom!

Eustace looked back at the whore whom he bedded. This is how low he had fallen? That he needed desperately a woman, and not just any woman but a cheap copy of the woman he loved by his side?

"Where are you going?" Cynthia asked seeing Eustace Chapuys shot up from bed and going where he had thrown his clothes as a result of the sexual frenzy from last night.

"None of your business. You would do well not to divulge this" He said becoming deathly serious.

She threw her head backwards against the soft pillows erupting in laughter.

Feigning slowly, he felt a strange pull toward that woman. Was she because -he questioned himself- because she is the only escape that prevents me to think of her? But, even in the mist of all this lust, he was still reminded of her. The fact that the woman seemed to bear a striking resemblance in the shape of her eyes, her bluntness, her voice and even in the shape of her face, her height everything, made him remember her more.

I cannot continue like this, being a fool, slave to love now slave to lust. What has been happening to me? What have I become? Eustace shook his head. He was going to end this once and for all.

Cynthia Casas thought she had the upper hand in this game of cat and mouse. She thought she had him where she wanted, that she could blackmail him, however in the game of seduction she would learn that no matter how many men she bedded, she was still an amateur compared to him.

"Listen to me" he said now fully dressed walking to her direction where she lay still lay under the covers of the bed. "If you say this to anyone I will make sure that you never see the light of day again" he finished darkly.

She snorted in greater laughter "You don't really mean it" she said sitting up her smile disappearing and turning completely serious. "I have heard what they say about you Excellency that you are a man of honor, a man of your words, but also an opportunist. You could threaten men, use women to your advantage but never can you harm them physically. I know men like you, men like you don't have it in them to harm us. You delight yourself humiliating us but you can't harm us. You are not just the type Monsieur"

Chapuys felt himself at the edge of loosing control the more he heard this woman speak.

"I remember the first time you came to Court, reaching out first to Queen Katherine, then wanting to humiliate Queen Anne, finally using Jane Seymour. Now you want to reach to the Duchess of Bavaria, the King's eldest daughter. You are a man who likes using women to his own advantage, destroying or building reputations, but you never harm them, not directly. My reputation since you came has been soiled by many men, but it has proven quite good. I have this great state, a state you came willingly after you found me near London last time. You know it is quite curious." she paused searching for the right words to say, bringing her finger to her chin. "You rejected all of my advances for ten years, yet you found me in the mist of London. What is that finally made you crack Excellency -that which brought you to me?"

With one swift move he grabbed her arm pressing it hard making her flinch. He wanted to make sure he was inflicting her pain to make sure she would know he was serious. He was not going to be like the others who had fallen for her dark hooks or her blackmail. He had eyes only for one woman, for one color, and that woman was not Cynthia.

"May the heavens fall if you tell anyone about last night. I know secrets of you through your lovers. Remember I have spies everywhere, I can make sure the rest of your stay in England will be nothing short of hell on Earth ... mark my words for they will be the last thing you hear on this Earth if you divulge this."

"Your words are nothing"

It was his turn to smirk "Are they Madame? You forget that I know about your illegitimate child. The one you passed as your cousin" He saw her pale, and this made him continue with his threat "I can make sure everyone knows whose child is she really from, and I can make sure that the father, a man you have blackmailed all this time, can file for custody of his bastard. You would loose the only human being you have ever cared"

He let go of her watching her face change from its earlier arrogance to utter hatred for him. "I would suggest you thread carefully" he said lastly and turned to leave a cynical smile on his face.

The last thing he heard her utter before he closed her chamber's door "Bastard" made him smile even wider.

* * *

"Trapped again" Mary kept saying to herself, spurring on her horse cantering east across the lush wide valleys of Hunsdson. She was desperate. Two of her maids, the ever the same loyal ladies that had been with her since the affair started, Susan and Jane trailed behind her. She could not take it anymore. It had been now four long months. Four months since Philip left, and six months that had she had sleep alone in her bed. The two months that Philip had been with her, Mary considered it didn't count. She could never compare Philip's closeness to Chapuys. She had been the only man who understood her, the man whom she considered had taken her in body and soul, while Philip only in body, and that she always told herself, had been for duty not for love.

"I need to see him" She had been saying it for several hours now, ever since she and her two ladies had set off to his cottage since morning.

Her ladies were huddled in their thick cloaks as she was. May had come, Spring had come and winter had finally ended. The sun was shining for them, Mary was sure.

They had long lost sight of Hunsdson. It was far behind them, the more she let her horse run free, the closer she felt him.

His cottage after an hour more, finally became visible.

It was very small, barely distinguishable by all the shade (because of trees) surrounding it, but Mary had good sight. She had been there before many times before Philip had found out about it, she would recognize his house anywhere. It was risky what she was doing. But most of the Bavarians were no longer paying attention to their Mistress, and she had received no letters of Philip or any news about him. Elsa, who besides Jane and Susan, she was the person she trusted the most, had told her that Henry was doing great, He could walk now without being held. Mary was proud, Goya was proving to be not only a good nurse but also a good Governess. If only Philip would have allowed Elsa to be her son's governess, Henry would not have to show himself so rebellious to his official one.

If Philip got wind, or any of his servants, what she was planning, they would certainly send a force big enough to seize her and bring her back. It was unlikely that he would get wind of it, of course -she had always been better than he at subterfuge -but even so, she was aware that he had his spies in his German servants, so she couldn't be too hasty like last time.

Last time had been a mistake. She had been very careful not to let anyone know of her plans. She and Eustace would be together again, of this she was sure.

"Madame" He said to her oce she came into the parlor after being received by Fleming. Her ladies went to wait alongside Fleming in the kitchens. She just had to see him. This was the day she had been waiting for nearly half a year.

Mary could not hold it any longer "Eustace" she said and ran to his side his arms open despite the pain in his leg to receive her.

They engulfed her in a strong embrace. He didn't wait any longer once she was in his arms. He leaned down and kissed her.

She responded to the kiss, it became more passionate. However they soon parted.

"Mary" he said now, recognizing that lustful glee in her eyes.

Turn back the clock, he said to himself, and he would never have given her up to Philip. He would have found a way. Pushing his reason aside, he knew there would have been a way for them, even if everything seemed to be against them, to be together.

"I missed you" she said bringing one finger to his lower lip.

He smiled getting lost in the touch of her finger in his lower lip. he later lets his fingers get lost in her dark auburn curls. This was heaven, they were convinced, nothing else besides them mattered.


End file.
